


Uneven Grounds

by amandaterasu



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Coffee Shops, Didn't Know They Were Dating, F/M, Family Issues, Hanahaki Disease, Hiding Medical Issues, Meddling, Mutual Pining, Ouran High School Host Club Shenanigans, Post-Anime, Third Year - Fujioka Haruhi, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandaterasu/pseuds/amandaterasu
Summary: Kyouya has been hiding his illness from everyone for two years when his father discovers he is afflicted with the infamousHanahaki.When Kyouya refuses the life-saving surgery that would end the disease because it would also end his feelings for Haruhi, he and his father make a bargain, giving him one year to win the girl's heart and prove himself.Haruhi is beginning her third year at Ouran Academy, and as the newly-minted president of the Host Club, has a lot of big plans. Working part time in Kyouya-senpai's new coffee shop certainly wasn't part of them.
Relationships: Fujioka Haruhi/Ootori Kyouya
Comments: 50
Kudos: 59





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I got a brain worm and this wouldn't let me go, so I've written the initial chapter as a way to gauge interest in this fic. It mostly came from joking about fanfic tropes and the realization that I have a type, and Ootori Kyouya is it.
> 
> Special Shoutout to my friend Sooraya for coming up with the name.

Pale lavender flesh with delicate, mist-blue veins creeping through it - veins that would have been more noticeable if it were not for the dark specks of his blood that graced the rose petal's surface. Kyouya stared at it, as if he could divine the next step forward in the gentle curves. Also, he stared at it to avoid looking at the paper beside it on his father's desk. He knew what it said, the words written there: _Hanahaki_ , a rare disease seen more often in romantic movies than reality due to it's absurdly sentimental obnoxiousness.

The warm light from his father's desk lamp made everything cast long shadows, warped and twisted. The petal was no different, and he let himself focus on the gentle twist of its shadow, oddly similar to the curve of Haruhi's neck into her jawline. The thought brought back warm memories, and he felt another cough coming on him; he tried, and failed, to stifle it. 

His father, Ootori Yoshio, sighed and shook his head. "You aren't stupid, Kyouya." His voice was cold. "How long has this been going on?"

Kyouya blinked slowly and met his father's gaze. "It's lavender," he said, noting the color of the roses he'd been coughing up. As if that could explain everything. 

It couldn't, not really. His father hadn't been in the music room two years ago when Fujioka had stumbled in, he hadn't felt the same swell of relief Kyouya had that this girl wasn't at all what he expected. Young ladies on scholarship often did everything in their power to find a boyfriend during their time at Ouran. They dressed their hair and wore extensive makeup, desperate to find a wealthy partner to elevate their social status. Some of the poorer students - those for whom Ouran's tuition was a significant expense, not expected as a matter of course - would fall for their tricks and marry them. 

When - two years ago - Ootori Yoshio had told Kyouya to keep an eye on the scholarship student his family was sponsoring, he had expected an inexperienced gold digger to be clinging at his coat. Instead it had been _her._ Desperate for nothing but an education, content to wear oversized, off-the-rack commoner clothing - Fujioka Haruhi had not been what he had expected, in so many ways. 

That day, he'd had a coughing fit in the back of the limo on his way home.

He had thought nothing of it at the time, assuming he'd inhaled a bit of saliva or some other nonsense - perversely glad no one but Tachibana had witnessed his indelicate behavior as he clutched the leather seat and the coughs wracked his body.

Then, a few weeks later, Houshakuji Renge had arrived from France, announcing they were engaged. Concerned, Kyouya had asked his father if a marriage had been arranged he was not aware of, but the Ootori patriarch had assured him that one hadn't, and even if it _had,_ it would not be Houshakuji-san's daughter. 

Mollified, he decided to allow Renge's antics for the club's benefit, not expecting the feeling of jealousy when it was Tamaki that found Haruhi crying; it was _Tamaki_ that rushed to her defense. He had shattered the camera more because he wanted no proof of the incident's occurrence beyond the memories he'd be forced to endure, and when he heard the crack of the glass the inside of his mouth tasted like grass.

Kyouya spent that night studying statistics, and drawing comfort from them. Only 2% of high school relationships progressed to marriage. He was content to let Suoh have her then, knowing it would fall apart. He would not waste his chance with Fujioka Haruhi in impatience.

It led to him deciding to push Tamaki and Haruhi together, despite the bright green flecks that had begun appearing in his saliva when he woke with coughing fits. He announced loudly that there was no profit in a relationship with a commoner. He implied she would bring nothing to the Ootori name. He told so many lies, ignoring the bright green flecks that clung to his toothbrush. 

He ignored it all until he forced himself to walk away after nearly losing control when he had her on her back in his bed at the beach house. Kyouya left Haruhi alone in his bedroom with Tamaki, and once he was far enough down the darkened hallway, collapsed on the floor with an intense coughing fit that only ended when he reached into his own mouth and pulled out the leaf. It was bright and green with a serrated edge. 

The leaf was tucked into his pocket, and he said nothing. Later came the research, both into the cause of his unusual expulsion and what type of flower it was. Thus he stumbled upon a disease that was the stuff of cheap melodramas and so rare as to be half-believed to be pure fiction by the general populace. 

Of course, the third Ootori son had known _this_ confrontation was going to happen for years. He had played things off as best he could, but just as he had predicted in the glow of his laptop's monitor two years ago, the day would come when he failed to hide his sickness, and his father would try to push the more reliable cure on him. 

The surgery was relatively low risk, considering how invasive it was. An inhalator to slow the disease's progress as much as possible for a few weeks, then a weekend in a private hospital, and he'd be right as rain. But the side effect always gave him pause: if he had the surgery, his feelings for Fujioka Haruhi would die along with the rose bush taking root in his alveoli. The other alternative was to make her fall in love with him.

Well that, or die when he eventually suffocated on the roses.

Abruptly, Kyouya realized he had not answered his father, and he took a steadying breath, feeling other petals flutter inside his chest. "Two years," he admitted. He had graduated from Ouran two weeks ago, and now the host club was in Haruhi's capable hands. And the Hitachiin twins' hands, he supposed, but he certainly didn't consider _them_ capable.

His father shook his head and leaned back in his chair, staring down at the paperwork. "Who is she?"

The truth, of course, would come out eventually, so Kyouya didn't shy from it. "Fujioka Haruhi. She's currently a third year at Ouran Academy - she is also the recipient of our scholarship." That was plenty of details for the old man, in his estimation. 

"The commoner." Ootori Yoshio said the word with disdain. "I'll arrange the surgery."

"No, thank you." Kyouya's response was simple, polite, and just as much a surprise to him as it was to the man across the desk. He had known that he would have to choose; you can't hide Hanahaki forever, especially as things progress, and his father would object to Haruhi's background despite his overall approval of her intelligence and work ethic.

"You can't expect that I'll allow you to pursue her."

"Whether or not you will 'allow' it is immaterial to me," he replied off-handedly. "I wish to make the attempt to cure myself the 'natural' way."

"So… what? Are you just going to allow yourself to be disowned? Hope her middle-class family can support you?" His father's sneer was evident in his tone. 

"No. I have some money of my own, and some business experience." Kyouya looked over the top of his glasses at him, a silent reminder of the Ootori group being saved by K.O. a little over a year ago.

Yoshio frowned and shook his head before standing and pacing near the far windows. "And what if she rejects you?"

"Then I will get the surgery," he admitted. "But I do plan to arrange things in my favor." Nevermind he'd been working behind the scenes to see it all arranged since he met her. "I am an Ootori, after all."

Snatching the report from his desk, the Ootori patriarch read it again. "According to the doctors, you have about fifteen months left before the end stages of the disease." Kyouya nodded silently in response, but didn't actually _say_ anything, so his father sighed and set the paper back down. "I will give you a year."

"What?" His astonishment must have shown on his face. 

"I don't like the girl. I think she's unworthy of the Ootori name, even if you are just a third son. But you have gone above and beyond for this family in the past, and I owe you a debt. So I will make a bargain with you." 

The two men stared at each other until Kyouya said, "Let's hear it."

"Tomorrow, you will pack your things and move out of this house. You will have only the money you have already acquired and your vaunted business acumen to support yourself on. I will not give you any support beyond continued medical care for your…" His father glanced down at the paper with mild revulsion. "... condition."

"And?" Kyouya asked, crossing one leg over the other as he watched him.

"And you will have one year to make something of yourself, and convince the girl to love you. If whatever business venture you make succeeds, then in a year's time, you will be welcomed back into the Ootori family with open arms, and I will give my blessing to whatever match you have made for yourself."

He didn't blink, just continued to stare at his father.

 _"But,_ if you fail to impress, then in a year's time, you will either get the surgery _or_ be cast out of the family permanently to live or die by this Fujioka girl's whims."

The clock in the hall chimed ten times while Kyouya pondered his options. His father was being more than fair; given his own business acumen this was as close as he could come to saying he approved of Haruhi. But if Kyouya took this bargain - if he went and started his own business and succeeded - he could have what he wanted, if he was able to work around the pain of his rapidly progressing illness. Then again, he'd been working around the pain for the last two years.

"I accept."

His father nodded and tucked the report into his desk. "Don't tell your mother about your illness. She'll worry."

"Very well. If you'll excuse me, time is of the essence."

Yoshio nodded once and Kyouya made for the door, but before he could leave his father said, "Do remember: there is even less profit in your death than there is in you marrying a commoner, even if you are just a third son."

Kyouya did not reply, but when he returned to his bedroom, he pulled out his cell phone and scrolled to a familiar number. After three rings, they picked up.

"I apologize for calling so late, Ranka-san, but I need a favor."

* * *

"Haru _hiiii!!!!"_

She snapped awake to the sound of her father's voice, eager and excited. She had been dreaming, but she wasn't sure of what. All she could remember was dark hair, dark eyes, and cool mist clinging to her skin the morning after a thunderstorm. 

Sunlight was streaming in her bedroom window, illuminating the glass over the photo of her mother on her bedside table, and quickly joined by the light from the hallway as her father burst in, wearing a frilly day dress of the same type he always tried to put her in. "Good Morning, Haruhi!"

Rubbing the sleep out of one eye, Haruhi sat up and smiled weakly. "Morning, Dad. What's going on?"

"A friend of mine is moving, and asked if I would go look at an apartment for him!" he said, but Haruhi could tell by his tone that he was _up_ to something. "I thought we could go together, me and my baby girl!"

"I'm not a baby. I'm about to start my third year of high school." She still climbed out of bed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Is it going to take long? I was hoping to get some studying done."

Her father laughed behind his hand. "You're on spring break! You should try to have a little fun. I wanted to go shopping, get you something cute, have lunch…"

Haruhi cast a longing look toward the books stacked on her desk and the fresh notebooks she'd picked up at the department store yesterday afternoon. She had wanted to get a head start reading her textbooks and taking notes since so much of her schedule would be filled with training the new members of the Host Club in the first few weeks of school. But this wasn't the _only_ day she'd have off…

"Fine," she sighed heavily and crossed her arms. "Now get out so I can get dressed."

Spending a day with her dad wasn't nearly as bad as she'd feared it would be, as he seemed constantly distracted, checking his cell phone repeatedly as the day progressed. Finally, after lunch, they walked to the apartment building and took the elevator to the top floor. 

The apartment was nice, only a little smaller than theirs, mostly due to the fact it only had one bedroom. Haruhi explored while her father spoke to the landlord, tracing her fingers along the chair rail that lined the white walls at waist height. The kitchenette was small, but well-equipped, and the bedroom was a decent size, a little larger than hers. The tatami mats and sliding paper doors were new, not that she expected any less, and she took in the view from the bedroom's large window while she wiggled her toes, enjoying the springiness of the fresh mats. 

"So," her father drawled, coming into the room and drawing her attention. "What do you think?"

Haruhi shrugged. "It's nice enough, but I don't know anything about your friend."

"He's a nice young man," he said, coming up to her side to look out the window. "Graduated high school just recently. But when his father asked him to do something he objected to, he refused, and was disowned." Her father's smile was wistful and only grew when he looked down at her. "He's never lived on his own before, so I want you to help him out when you can, okay?"

"But Dad," she objected. "I have school, and the Host Club, and I have to study for my university exams, and -"

"Haruhi-kun." 

The voice from the door surprised her. "Kyouya-senpai?"

He had a suitcase in one hand, and looked around the room with his usual emotionless expression. "Do you see anything strange about this place, Ranka-san?" Kyouya asked politely, then gave her father his winning host smile that he turned on her. "I apologize for my ignorance, but I have never rented an apartment before, and I am thankful your father was kind enough to lend his expertise." 

"I think this place will work well for you, Kyouya-kun!" the elder Fujioka said, swanning away from the window to grab his arm. "And I'll send my Haruhi over a few times a week to help you out, yes?"

"While I would greatly appreciate her help, I do not want to be an imposition." His voice was matter of fact, and he pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand. "Now that we don't attend school together, I have little right to _demand_ she assist me with anything." Kyouya still hadn't looked away, and the corner of his mouth lifted a little more, into the smirk she knew meant nothing but trouble for her. 

Kyouya set the suitcase down and patted Ranka-san's hand politely before pulling away and moving to Haruhi's side at the window. They both looked out in silence for a few moments, before she blurted out. "You can see my apartment from here!"

"Oh?" He glanced down out the corner of his eye, and she pointed towards the back of a distant apartment building. 

"See the window just below the big antenna?" Haruhi smiled up at him. "That's my bedroom window."

He stared at the window in the distance until the landlord returned, at which point he mumbled, "I'll take it."

* * *

Kyouya dusted off his hands and sat down at the desk in his bedroom, which he had placed so it faced the window. Every few minutes, as he scribbled and budgeted and planned, he would glance up, to see if the light in her bedroom was on. He wanted to lie to himself and say he was looking for the comfort of knowing she got home safely, but the blood-speckled rose petals in the tiny trash can by his feet made his usual brand of self-delusion impossible. It was well after sunset when he looked up from his real estate portfolio and saw the rectangle glowing with bright yellow light.

He ground his teeth in mild irritation at himself when he realized his phone was already pressed against his ear and ringing. The calculating Shadow King he liked to believe he was longed to snap the phone shut, but before he could, Haruhi's bright voice said, "Kyouya-senpai?"

"Hello, Haruhi," he mumbled, then lapsed back into silence. When it was nearly awkward, he sighed. "I don't know why I called you."

"Ah," she replied. "My dad told me a little of what happened… he said your father disowned you."

"Temporarily," Kyouya clarified. "I have a year to prove myself and earn his favor back."

"I know you'll do it, Senpai." He could hear her smile in her voice. "You are the best of them."

A dark shape appeared in the light of her window, and he chuckled. "Is that you?"

"Huh?"

"I glanced up at your window and saw someone there. Is that you?"

"Yeah," she said. "I know it isn't my place to ask, but if you feel like talking about what happened I am always willing to listen."

"I don't think I'm ready," he whispered. "But I am running out of time, and have a lot of work to do." The shape vanished from in front of the window, and Kyouya suddenly said, "Come back, Haruhi."

"Senpai," she sighed in exasperation, "It's late. I can't come over."

"No, I mean… come back to the window."

The shape reappeared, and Kyouya felt calmer. Even though he couldn't see anything of her beyond a dark splotch surrounded by light, knowing it was her made him feel less lonely.

"Which window is yours?" Haruhi asked.

"I… don't know."

She giggled. "Do me a favor, senpai. Turn your light off and on three times, then come back to your window. I want to know if I can see you."

"Fine." He stood and made his way to the switch on the wall. "I know I said this afternoon I can't demand your help anymore, but I can ask, can't I?"

"Always, Senpai." Her voice seemed gentle, and Kyouya gripped his phone a little tighter as he flipped the switch three times. 

"Ah!" she exclaimed. "I can see your window!"

"I have to prove myself to my father by founding my own business and making it profitable. I have to show that I do not _need_ the Ootori inheritance to be permitted to make my own choices." He moved back to the window.

"I can see you, too! Though you're just a dark smudge in the light." 

Kyouya smirked. "Just like you," he said, and she laughed.

"So, you're going to start a business?"

"Yes. I've picked the location, a shopfront in a building I already own, but I was hoping I could convince you to come look at it with me tomorrow, and give me your opinion on its suitability." He pulled the phone away from his ear while he coughed, then pulled another rose petal out of his mouth.

"-don't understand why you care what I think," Haruhi was saying. 

"I was hoping I could convince you to work there part-time. In return, I would be willing to assist you with training the new host club members and your duties as president. Since I'm taking a gap year for this, I'll have far more free time than you do."

She made a strange noise in the back of her throat, barely audible over the phone, but it made him feel warm. "What kind of business are you thinking, Senpai?"

"I'm planning to open a coffee shop."


	2. Not Your Senpai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranka insists Haruhi helps Kyouya settle in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still haven't exorcised the brain worms so another chapter for you all! <3

Haruhi was in the kitchen, making a grocery list, when someone knocked at the door. She lifted her head to see her dad smiling sheepishly. "I forgot I invited Kyouya-kun for breakfast, Haru-chan."

"Dad…" She sighed, and set her list down. At this point it couldn't be helped, and at least she hadn't started cooking yet. After putting rice in the rice cooker, she started taking ingredients out of the refrigerator, only looking up when they came back in. "Good morning, Kyouya-senpai."

Kyouya bowed politely, as if this were their first meeting. Something had him on edge, but Haruhi couldn't tell what. Whatever it was, she was thankful for it; Kyouya-senpai was usually a bear this early in the morning. She would take his silence over nasty glares and insults. 

"I'm making a traditional breakfast. I hope that's okay." 

He nodded and took a seat at the table, frowning down at his cell phone while her father put his hands on his hips. "You're awfully quiet this morning, Kyouya-kun."

"Leave him alone, Dad," Haruhi chided while she chopped mushrooms for the miso soup. "Kyouya-senpai isn't a morning person. To be honest, I'm surprised he accepted the invitation."

"Well, he doesn't actually have any food at his apartment," her father said. "And it's not like he knows how to cook for himself."

She glanced over at Kyouya, who was glaring angrily at the wood grain of her tabletop. "Would you like some coffee, Senpai? I'm afraid all we have is instant, but it's still caffeinated." 

Though he didn't look up at her, he nodded, and she pulled three mugs out of the cabinet. "Do you want milk or sugar?" When Haruhi looked back, he was wiping his face with a napkin.

"A splash of milk is fine." His voice was unusually quiet, and the way his shoulders hunched made her uncomfortable. 

"Senpai…" Haruhi approached Kyouya like he was a viper that might strike at any moment and set a cup of coffee in front of him at the same time he reached for it. Their fingers brushed, and he started coughing uncontrollably, causing her to jump back.

Kyouya pulled the handkerchief out of his pocket and covered his mouth with it. He could only hope no petals would go flying and give him away. He had thought the disease was under control, but then he'd walked in and saw Haruhi. She looked preciously domestic, and that only increased when she had offered him a warm smile and greeted him. 

He had to be thankful for the _Hanahaki,_ at least. It prevented him from lying to himself about his feelings, which had been his first instinct. However, he was relatively sure she wouldn't appreciate him disgorging pale purple petals all over her tatami before announcing that he'd been in love with her for years and would she please reciprocate his affections right now, thank you. It would be pointless if she capitulated from guilt and never developed real feelings for him. It wouldn't cure the disease.

When the coughing had finally subsided, Kyouya realized he could feel the press of her hand between his shoulder blades. "Sorry," he mumbled, and picked up the coffee. 

Haruhi pulled her hand away and went back to the sink, washing her hands again before getting back to cooking. "Are you feeling alright, Kyouya-senpai? We can reschedule for another day when you feel better."

"I'm fine," he growled, scowling down at the instant coffee. It was disgusting. He was going to have to break her of this habit. "I just swallowed wrong."

She nodded absently and went back to cooking, and he pushed himself to relax as he watched her sashay about the kitchen, making tamagoyaki and salmon to go with the soup and rice. "Dad," she called. "Can you stir the natto?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ranka-san said, walking between them to the fridge. As he turned back with the small container in his hands, he stared down at the ground near Kyouya.

Looking down, Kyouya froze. One petal had escaped him, and Haruhi's father had seen it. Without a word, he reached out and snatched the petal, shoving it into his handkerchief and standing. "Please, excuse me a moment."

He bolted for the restroom, shutting the door behind him before he emptied the handkerchief and all the petals into the toilet. It was really too early for this crap. He flushed the evidence of his illness away, then washed his face and hands in the sink to help himself wake up. Ranka had seen one of the petals, and he needed to be ready to handle that, too.

When Kyouya opened the door, Haruhi's father was waiting for him, his arms crossed over his chest. "So."

"Yes, Ranka-san?" he asked. Best to let him guide the conversation.

"You didn't bring any flowers in with you, I noticed." Ranka paused, as if waiting for an excuse. Kyouya offered none, so he continued. "I've seen it in the tv shows they play at the bar. Hanu… no… Hani… no, that's -"

 _"Hanahaki,"_ Kyouya clarified. "Yes, I have it. Yes, it's real. Yes, I'm receiving medical care for it."

"So you're in love, then?"

Ranka sighed wistfully. "Have you confessed to Tamaki-kun?"

"Ta… Tamaki-kun?" He wasn't sure if he had heard him right.

Nodding eagerly, Ranka stepped forward and grabbed Kyouya's free hand. "I've always noticed how close you two are. I had thought you were more like brothers than lovers, but after this…" He swooned. "Ooooh!! I love _Hanahaki_ dramas! Can I record when you finally confess to Tamaki for -"

"It's not Tamaki," Kyouya said quietly. Now that Ranka-san knew about the illness, letting him think it was tied to his best friend would only lead to more trouble later if he succeeded in courting Haruhi. Better to nip this in the bud - especially as her father might prove a valuable ally. "I'm surprised a father as perceptive as you hasn't figured me out, yet."

Blinking in surprise, Ranka took a step back, then looked down the hallway toward the kitchen, where Haruhi was still making breakfast. Kyouya followed his gaze, allowing himself the momentary pleasure of observing her while she wouldn't notice. The morning sunlight washed her out a little but did nothing to diminish her beauty, and the smell of her cooking was delicious. He started to wonder if he could get used to mornings, if this was part of them.

"Aah," Ranka said softly. Kyouya glanced back up at him. "I suppose I should have realized why you always took such good care of her, even when there was no profit in it for you."

"Huh?"

"When the Zuka Club tried to steal her first kiss," he clarified. "You foiled Benio-san's plot without even asking your friends for help, even though there was no profit to be had. In fact, photos of the event might have sold well to the clients. You gave up profit to protect her." Ranka tilted his head. "Why did your father 'temporarily' disown you, Kyouya-kun?"

Kyouya closed his eyes. "I refused the surgery to fix it."

"You know what it feels like, then, to love someone so much that you would die for them." The older man smiled down at him fondly. 

"What will you do?" Kyouya asked.

"Me?" Ranka laughed. "Nothing. I can't tell her. You know how she is. She would try to force the feelings for fear of losing a friend. What will _you_ do, Kyouya-kun?"

"I'm going to manipulate the situation to make her fall in love with me," he said, shrugging. "If I manage that, and my coffee shop is a success, my father will reinstate my place in the family in a year and give us his blessing."

"Aaah!" Clasping his hands in front of his face, Ranka swayed in delight. "Well, you are a good boy, Kyouya-kun! Much better than that Suoh boy. You have a good head on your shoulders." He put his hands on his hips. "Consider me your #1 Ally in your plan to make my little Haruhi your bride." After a pause, her father asked, "What is the plan?"

Ten minutes later they both returned to the kitchen, and Haruhi could tell _something_ was going on. Her father's eyes sparkled in a way that was uncomfortably reminiscent of Renge watching her favorite love dramas. "Haru-chan…"

She winced. Her father only called her that when he wanted something. "Dad." Haruhi set the bowl of rice on the table with the rest of the dishes. 

"It looks so _good,_ Haru-chan. Don't you think so, Kyouya-kun?" 

Her eyes snapped to Kyouya, who still looked exhausted, but maybe a little better than he had when he'd arrived. "Yes," he replied quietly. Something turned over in her chest and she crossed to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back to his seat. "Come on, Senpai. Let's get you some food and some coffee. You look pale. You shouldn't let my dad bother you." 

Kyouya settled down into the chair and watched Haruhi as she fussed over him, enjoying the little ways she touched him. Grabbing his arm to guide him to his seat. Fingers brushing his temple as she met his gaze. A hand on his shoulder before she turned away. She refilled his coffee, then her own, and sat down in her seat. 

"No coffee for me?" Ranka-san asked plaintively, and Haruhi gave him a dark look.

"You're about to ask me for something."

"No," Kyouya interjected. "I am."

"Senpai?" Her eyebrows shot up.

"I had asked your father's permission because it might take more of your time, and I don't want him to worry."

Haruhi pursed her lips. "What is it?"

"I was hoping you could take me grocery shopping when you go later, and help me learn to cook. I don't exactly have a personal chef anymore." Kyouya sipped his coffee, and to his surprise, she gave him her sunniest smile.

"Of course, Kyouya-senpai!" She started serving herself from the dishes, ignoring the way Ranka was holding up his coffee cup and pouting. "There's a grocery store between your apartment and mine, so maybe we can shop there after we check out the shop you were telling me about."

"Shop?" Ranka asked eagerly.

Since his daughter chose to ignore him, Kyouya said, "The coffee shop I want to open. There's an available spot in a building I own, and I wanted Haruhi to come give her opinion, since she'll be working there part time."

"A job?" If possible, Ranka seemed to become even more excited, and Haruhi glared at him before looking back at Kyouya.

"You should eat. We'll be doing a lot of walking today, and you need your strength."

* * *

"Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi said, her voice betraying the edges of her irritation. "When were you going to tell me the coffee shop was _here?"_

"I didn't think it was necessary to tell you, when the location was obvious," he said, staring up at the building right next to the gates to Ouran Academy. 

"I thought this was a dormitory!"

"It is," he said. "I bought it from my father a few years ago to get my feet wet in the medical industry. It's a dormitory specifically designed for students with disabilities. And now it will have a coffee shop on the ground floor."

"Damn rich people." Haruhi seemed unusually put out as she stormed past him into the empty storefront.

"Is the location unsuitable for a cafe, Haruhi-kun?"

"No." Still, she glowered, then sighed. "I suppose I should be glad. I don't have to worry about a long commute in my schedule."

"See, a silver lining." He shut the door behind them, and let Haruhi look around the front of house. It was a large, empty room, about the size of Music Room 3, and sunlight filled the space, making Haruhi seem to glow.

"What do you see me doing here, Senpai?"

Her question took him off guard, and he paused to collect himself. "I want this to be a Host Club coffee shop."

She laughed incredulously. "What?"

"Women paid money hand over fist just to sit and have coffee with us in the club. They'll pay even more to see those of us that have graduated. I just have to convince the others." 

"Have you told them about what happened yet?" 

"No," Kyouya shook his head. "But I expect they'll find out soon. Word travels fast."

"Tamaki will be furious you haven't told him, Kyouya-senpai."

"Maybe," he agreed, and led her into the back. "Look around. Tell me what you think."

She wandered into the kitchen area and looked around. "It looks fine… I assume you'll be ordering in the cakes." 

"Yes," Kyouya agreed, then felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Tamaki's name on the front, then shoved it back into his pocket. 

"I like it," she said. "You'll need to get equipment in and some nice furniture, but it could be a lovely date spot."

"You think?" He raised an eyebrow. 

Haruhi nodded eagerly. "It's close enough to Ouran that middle schoolers and high schoolers can come without worrying their parents, and with the 'Host Club Atmosphere' it will encourage ideas of romance."

"I never thought you were one for such sentimentality," he said lightly. "You certainly never responded to Tamaki's attentions."

Laughing, she said, "There's more to romance than paying attention to a girl. He never confessed or asked me on a date, so…" Haruhi shrugged. "Maybe now that he's graduated he will be bolder."

Behind her, Kyouya scowled. Like hell he wanted any of Tamaki's boldness. He had given the blonde idiot a chance. Hell, he had _literally_ pushed Haruhi into his arms multiple times, even when it killed him. His plan had been for them to get the romance out of their system so that there would be no regrets when he claimed her for his own. As far as he was concerned, Tamaki had wasted his chance.

"We should get to the grocery store," he said abruptly. "I know you have a lot you want to do that doesn't involve catering to me." The truth was he wanted to get her back in his apartment. He wanted to spend time with her in his new home, alone.

They were both silent as they walked, and he ran the numbers for his new business over in his head. After he walked Haruhi home tonight he'd have to order the equipment and furniture, decide on a menu, and -

"Here we are," Haruhi said, grabbing a basket and hooking it over her arm. "If it's okay with you, for now we'll make you the same stuff my dad and I are having. Once I know what dishes you like I can help you come up with a custom menu."

"That's perfectly fine." Kyouya glanced around at the brightly lit shelves. "I wouldn't know where to begin in any event."

"You begin here!" she said excitedly, holding up a little newsletter, every inch of its surface emblazoned with glossy photos of food or cramped text. "With the sales!"

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at Kyouya's apartment, weighed down with multiple bags of food. They had doubled back to Haruhi's apartment to drop off her own groceries while Ranka-san was getting ready for work. He just gave them a wave while doing his make-up, and then they left again. They chatted amicably as they put everything away, and Kyouya eyed the skillet she had insisted he purchase dubiously. 

"You'll have to buy a whole set of pots and pans, Senpai, but for tonight I'm just going to teach you to make a one-pan dish." She held up the tupperware she had snatched from her house. "We're going to make Omurice."

"Omurice?" he murmured.

"It's a good way to use up your leftovers," she said knowingly. "But for tonight, we'll use my leftovers. We'll also need some eggs and -"

Sharp pain lanced Kyouya's chest, and he suddenly struggled to breathe. He leaned over and grabbed the table, biting his tongue against the rising taste of blood. "Can it… wait a bit?" he managed to force out.

"Kyouya-senpai?" Her voice was suddenly laden with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Back hurts. Need a shower." 

Haruhi frowned, but nodded. "Okay. You go take a shower. I'll get everything ready and walk you through it when you get out."

"Thanks," he whispered, before hobbling toward the bathroom, struggling to breathe.

* * *

"Ranka-chan!" The manager of the bar came over. "You have a guest."

"Oh?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes. "A handsome new beau for me?"

"He uh…" The manager tugged at the collar of his shirt. "He didn't ask for Ranka. He asked for Fujioka Ryoji. We had to sneak him in the back since he didn't want to be seen here."

"Ah." Fujioka frowned, dropping the persona of 'Ranka.' "Where?"

"Table 34." 

He nodded and made his way over, playing up 'Ranka' to the guests until he arrived to find four men in suits surrounding table 34. "You sent for me?" he asked.

"Fujioka Ryoji?" The voice was masculine, thick with age and disdain. 

"Yes."

"Let him in."

Two of the suited men moved, making room for him to sit in the booth. Across from him was a man somewhere in his late 40s or early 50s, glaring at him over his glasses with a sharp moustache and goatee. "You are Fujioka Ryoji, father of Fujioka Haruhi?"

"Who are you?" Ryoji met the man's glare with one of equal intensity. He disliked being angry for long, but where Haruhi was concerned he made an exception.

"My name is Ootori Yoshio. I think we should discuss our children."

* * *

Kyoya pulled on a pair of black pajama pants and ran a hand through his hair in the bathroom mirror. He grabbed the unlabeled inhalator out of the cabinet - the inhibitor for the _Hanahaki_ \- and took a puff of it, holding his breath to keep the medication in his lungs as long as he could. Then he put his glasses back on, draped the towel around his neck, and returned to the kitchen. 

Haruhi was humming to herself in the kitchen, tinny music playing from her phone while she chopped vegetables and placed them in his new tupperware. 

"Haru-chan?" The diminutive slipped out before he realized it, and when she turned to face him, they were both blushing. 

"Kyouya-senpai," she said, then glanced down at the knife in her hand and started laughing. "Sorry. I figured I'd pre-chop some of the vegetables for stuff you'll be eating later this week. It saves time if you do it all at once."

"Thank you," he said quietly, but noticed the way her eyes lingered on him. "What is it?"

"Oh… just…" Haruhi gestured to his chest. "It's not a good idea to cook without a shirt. You could get hurt."

"I thought you would be cooking, and I'll just be watching."

Rolling her eyes, Haruhi turned back away from him and started chopping again, muttering to herself. The sound of her phone ringing made both of them jump, but she put down the knife and picked it up, then lifted it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hey Dad."

"Oh, okay." Her voice sounded slightly forlorn. 

"No, it's fine. I'll manage."

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." After a pause she hung up and set the phone down. "That was my dad," she explained. "He's going to be out tonight."

"Do you want to stay here?" Yet another thing he just blurted out without thinking. 

Haruhi stared at him in shock. "What has gotten into you?"

"I meant for dinner," he grumbled. "I will walk you home after."

"Oh." She blushed. "If you don't mind, I'd love to."

"Great." He came over beside her and leaned on the counter. "So. Show me how to make this… what did you call it?"

"Omurice, Kyouya-senpai."

"Kyouya," he corrected her. 

Haruhi looked up at him, her eyes wide and dark. "Wha…?"

"Kyouya. Or Kyouya-kun. I'm not your senpai anymore. We're friends, aren't we?" 

She smiled then, a teasing grin that forced him to smile back. "I'm sure that will make a great impression," she whispered, and he realized at some point he'd put his hand on her shoulder. "When I call my boss 'Kyo-chan' in front of all my coworkers."

He leaned closer, and felt her shift beneath him, pushing herself up on her tiptoes as her eyes slid shut. Kyouya couldn't believe his luck as he leaned in, hoping to kiss her. Was it really going to be this easy? 

A sudden pounding on the door to his apartment caused Haruhi to spook and pull away, and he decided he was going to murder whomever was interrupting them. With a dark glare he crossed to the entryway and tore open his door to find the rest of the Host Club had found him.


	3. A Fair Cruel Maid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Host Club joins Haruhi and Kyouya for dinner, then he walks her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you all thought you were going to get away without Shakespeare references.

Kyouya was assaulted by a wall of noise that quickly resolved into his friends' voices. 

"What did you do to piss off the old man?" Hikaru asked.

"Oh, Kyo-chan, it must be terrible!" Haninozuka-senpai said. "You can't have cake whenever you want, and… and…"

"We brought a housewarming present." Kaoru held up a shopping bag.

"Kyouya-kun!" Tamaki pulled him into a tight hug. "Don't worry, your Host Club family is here to support you. We have come up with a plan to win back your father's approval, and -"

"Haruhi-kun." Mori-senpai's greeting caused the other hosts to freeze, and Kyouya's already considerable anger at the interruption to skyrocket. He knew what they saw over his shoulder. A quiet, _one-bedroom_ apartment; Haruhi making dinner for two; two place settings sitting out on the counter; and Kyouya himself, dressed for bed, shirtless, obviously having just gotten out of the shower with how wet his hair was. It was every fantasy he'd kept to himself over the last two years, and of course these degenerates were here to ruin it.

The impending eruption was halted by Hani-senpai pushing past Kyouya and throwing himself at Haruhi. "Ha~ru-chan!"

"Honey-senpai!" she said in greeting, catching him in a hug as he wrapped his arms around her. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to check on Kyo-chan!"

Kyouya took a steadying breath and pushed his glasses up. "How did you find me?"

"Mitsukuni," Mori said, "He called the Ootori special forces."

He rubbed his temple with two fingers. "And they were delighted to help a member of the Haninozuka family."

The other hosts didn't wait to be invited in either, they just walked past him to go talk to Haruhi. Kyouya didn't know why he was surprised. They were all in love with her, to one degree or another; she was the only woman most of them knew who didn't care about their family names or wealth, but it didn't stop him from being furious. If they had been just a few minutes later, he would have kissed her. 

"Haruhi-kun!" Tamaki called, grabbing her in a tight hug. "Did you come over to help Mommy with the chores?"

"Kyouya doesn't know how to cook for himself, so I am teaching him." Kyouya met her gaze over Tamaki's shoulder, and seeing she shared some of his irritation made him calmer.

"Yay!" The twins said in unison. "Haruhi's making dinner!" They all took seats at his small table never intended for a crowd this large.

"I'm making dinner for two, not seven." She corrected.

Hikaru shrugged. "Then just make some more, Haruhi-kun."

"We didn't buy enough food to feed all of you tonight. We only bought enough to feed Kyouya for a week."

"Then go _buy_ more," Hikaru amended, rolling his eyes.

Haruhi dropped her head and muttered, "Damn rich people."

"It would be more expedient for you all to go buy food for Haruhi to cook," Kyouya said. "As it's my home, and I'm not leaving you here without me, and Haruhi can't afford to feed all of you reprobates. Further, she shouldn't be asked to pay when you're already asking her to cook. She paid her debt, she's not our dog anymore."

Haninozuka and Morinozuka exchanged a look, and to everyone's surprise, Mori spoke up. "Mitsukuni, stay here with Haruhi and Kyouya." Then he looked over at the other three. "Let's go."

Tamaki and both Hitachiin brothers complained loudly, but eventually capitulated, following Mori back out into the evening air. Once the noise had subsided, Hani-senpai took Haruhi's hand. "Will you let me talk to Kyouya-kun for a minute?"

"Uh… sure…" The glance she offered Kyouya was thick with concern, but then she wandered down the hall toward the restroom, calling, "I'm just going to freshen up," over her shoulder.

After the door shut, Haninozuka turned to Kyouya. "Will you tell me what happened, Kyo-chan?"

"My father and I fought. It was inevitable, given the circumstances." He pushed his glasses up his nose and began putting away the food Haruhi was going to cook for him. Maybe he could convince her to cook for him tomorrow night.

"Was it about Haru-chan?"

As usual, the eldest of the Host Club saw more than he let on. "Yes and no," he said quietly. "It's complicated."

"Is it?"

Kyouya turned to face Hani, glaring over his glasses. How could he explain anything with Haruhi in the next room? Haninozuka may be his senpai, but what right did he have to pry into Kyouya's business in the first place. Opening his mouth to snap at him, the worst thing that could possibly happen did.

"Here, Kyo-chan," Hani said quietly, grabbing one of the empty bowls on the counter and shoving it into Kyouya's arms and using it to catch the lavender rose petals that fell from his mouth.

Once the coughing subsided, Kyouya took the bowl to the sink and turned on the water, rinsing the petals into the garbage disposal before he turned it on. Neither he nor Haninozuka said anything until he had set the bowl back on the counter.

"Kyo-chan…" Hani-senpai looked up at him, then glanced down the hall to where Haruhi had vanished. "Two years?"

The corner of Kyouya's mouth tugged upward. "How did you guess?"

"Lavender roses mean love at first sight."

* * *

Everyone was crammed together, kneeling around Kyouya's low table and eating the tempura Haruhi had made. She was sitting across from him at the far side of the table, wedged between Tamaki and Hikaru and ignoring the way they were glaring at each other over her head. The noise was constant as everyone talked over each other, and not for the first time, he was thankful that they expected him to be quiet. He didn't feel up to talking, even though he could sense Hani-senpai's eyes on him from time to time.

"So, Kyouya-kun," Tamaki finally turned to him as they took the dishes to the sink. "What happened?"

"My father did not agree with a choice I have made for myself. I have a year to prove that I have the strength to back up my convictions."

"What choice, Mommy?"

"If I wanted you to know, I would tell you."

Tamaki's smile fell. "Kyouya -"

"I need all of your help," he said, cutting off the conversation by raising his voice to address the room. The rest of the host club looked up at him, but his eyes focused on Haruhi. She gave him an encouraging nod, and then he looked away, looking at each of their friends in turn. "My father has given me a year to prove I do not need the Ootori resources to support myself, so I am starting a business - a Host Club coffee shop."

Whatever hurt Tamaki had over Kyouya's refusal to discuss his estrangement from his family was forgotten in the face of his announcement, and the blond threw his arms around him. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Your family is here for you, Kyouya-kun! We will help you win back your father's love! The Host Club will have one last hurrah and -"

"I've already discussed arrangements with Haruhi-kun," Kyouya said. "She will be bringing the new Host Club members to work in the coffee shop as part of their training. I was hoping I could ask you all to help us train them, and take shifts working. You would be paid, of course, but -"

"Men!" Tamaki said, interrupting Kyouya and turning to the rest of the group. "As the King of the Host Club, I have decided we will -"

"Tamaki-senpai!" Haruhi's voice was sharp, and she shot to her feet. "I do not mind whatever agreement you work out with Kyouya-kun, but you _will_ remember that you have graduated. As far as the Ouran _High School_ Host Club is concerned, _I_ am the King."

Hikaru and Kaoru started laughing, clutching their sides and looking at Tamaki. "Haruhi called him out!" they said in unison. "Haruhi-kun is the boss now."

Haruhi sighed heavily. "Kyouya," she said. "I would like you to walk me home now."

He nodded and grabbed his jacket. "Hani-senpai," Kyouya turned to him. "Can you kick these idiots out for me?"

"Okay!" Hani gave him a thumbs up, and he nodded, then put one arm around Haruhi and escorted her out the door.

After they left, everyone began picking up their things, but Tamaki remained, staring in surprise at the door. "She didn't call him Kyouya- _senpai,"_ he whispered.

* * *

They had been walking alone along the dark street in silence for almost fifteen minutes when Haruhi finally said, "I am sorry for the outburst. I know this is stressful enough."

"It's fine," Kyouya replied. "I won't begrudge you enforcing your authority."

"Still…" she rubbed her arm anxiously. "He is the founding president. I should have been more respectful."

"He is also an idiot," he reminded her. "Besides, I would rather negotiate with you, if I get my choice."

"I am much more sensible," Haruhi said, and grinned up at him. "Maybe now that Tamaki's not involved in the club's finances, it will actually make some real money."

Kyouya laughed. "He might not be involved in the club's finances, but now he's involved in mine."

She lifted one hand to her mouth and her shoulders trembled before she burst into loud peals of laughter. "I- I'm sorry," she gasped, leaning against a lamp post. "I know it's not funny for you, but I-" 

Her laughter redoubled, and he shook his head, stepping close to her. "At least you find it amusing."

Haruhi straightened, wiping tears from her eyes. "If I have learned anything from you guys, it is that I should take my enjoyment where I can."

Throwing an arm over her shoulders, he pulled her along, continuing to walk. "Is that all you learned?"

"No." Her cheeks flushed. "I've learned a lot of things, both good and bad."

He frowned. "Bad?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I learned to be more careful with my heart."

"What do you mean?"

They climbed the stairs up to Haruhi's floor in silence, and then she turned to him, her eyes calculating. "Kyouya."

"Yes?" They stopped in front of her door.

"That night, at the beach…"

His back straightened at the memory. It wasn't his best moment by far, but there had been an intimacy between them since that night that he was still unable to name, even two years later.

"That night," she started again, searching his face. "If I hadn't called you out, what would you have done?"

"Exactly what happened," he replied. "You knew I wasn't going to do anything to you. There would be no benefit in hurting you, especially before you paid off your debt. I have plenty of regrets about that night, Haruhi, but 'not harming you' isn't one of them."

"Then what do you regret?"

Despite the fact that it was technically winter, the heat between them felt like midsummer. "I regret that I didn't lock the door."

Haruhi's eyes widened. "Why?"

"Then Tamaki would not have interrupted my plan."

A small smile played over her lips. "Your plan to do what, Kyo-chan?"

Kyouya wrapped his fingers around her shoulders and pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers as gently as he could. They stayed like that for a few moments, locked in a kiss so soft he couldn't be sure it was real until Haruhi pulled away and he could feel the absence of her as raw and aching as the thorns digging into his bronchioles. He let her go, but watched her for a reaction. 

The smile she gave him was soft and understanding. "Kyouya," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Don't worry about it. We've been friends for years. You don't have to force yourself to seduce me to get my help with your business."

He gaped at her incredulously. "Haruhi, I'm not -"

She unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside, then turned to face him. "Like I told you that night - you would only want me if there was something to be gained. Now that you need my help with your business to return to your family, there is."

"I didn't kiss you because there was profit in it," Kyouya insisted. "I kissed you because I wanted to. I _have_ wanted to. For years."

"You expect me to believe that?" She chuckled. "Yet you never once made a move when you had every opportunity, not until you needed me." There was no condemnation in the way she looked at him. "Good night, Kyouya-kun." 

With that, she shut the door in his face.

Kyouya stood staring at her apartment door for a full minute, then pulled out his handkerchief and deposited all the flower petals that had burst into his mouth at his near-confession into it. 

On the other side of the door, Haruhi reached up and touched her lips, wondering why her hand was trembling.

* * *

Haruhi was nose deep in an English textbook the next morning, sounding out the words carefully, when her doorbell rang. "Dad!" she called over her shoulder. "Can you get that?"

She chewed her lip and tried the practice sentence again, only to be interrupted a second time by the doorbell. Lifting her head to call for her dad again, she suddenly remembered he was out for the night.

Grumbling, she climbed to her feet and padded to the front door to find Kyouya waiting on the other side, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Kyouya?" Haruhi frowned. "You didn't call or text."

"You said you would help me." His voice was almost accusatory.

"What do you need help with right now? I'm studying."

"Then bring your books. I have a lot of deliveries coming to the shop today, and I will need help setting things up."

Haruhi tried to think of a way to get him to leave, but sighed dejectedly. "You have to help me study then," was her capitulation.

"Of course," he said off-handedly. 

He followed her back into the apartment, and she gestured to the kitchen. "There's coffee in the pot if you want some. I'm going to get ready."

"Thank you, Haruhi."

After she vanished down the hallway, Kyouya walked over to the kitchen counter and poured himself a cup of coffee, then leaned against the counter and drank. He had gotten no sleep last night, tossing and turning with the ghost of her lips haunting him. Eventually, he'd chosen to just get some work done, and had woken this morning with a sharp pain in his back from having fallen asleep at his desk. There were no servants now to send him to bed.

He had just started considering getting a second cup when Haruhi returned, fiddling with the strap on her messenger bag. Without a word, he set his coffee cup in the sink and crossed to her, taking the bag off her shoulder and putting it on himself. "Ready?"

Her thankful smile made the petals in his chest flutter when she said, "Okay, Kyouya-kun." 

As soon as they started walking, Haruhi's nose was back in her book, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to sound out a word. "Kipe… Kipper…" 

"What language?" he asked. He had said he'd help her after all.

"English." Haruhi sulked and offered him the book. "We're learning Shakespeare this year. Modern English is hard enough. I don't need this archaic speech to practice law."

"Maybe not directly, but it is important to be familiar with the cultural canon. Most English speakers are passing familiar with the works of Shakespeare and reference them often, even when they don't realize it." He took the book and glanced down at the passage. "Aah. Twelfth Night."

"Twelfth Night?" Haruhi's eyebrows shot up. 

"It's one of Shakespeare's comedies. About a woman who gets shipwrecked and disguises herself as a man, then ends up in a messy love triangle." He smirked down at her. "Oddly apropos."

Haruhi rolled her eyes. "Just help me with the passage."

"It's a song, sung by Duke Orsino's fool. He's in love with a woman who doesn't love him back, and asks the fool to perform for him." He handed the book back to her and recited the passage from memory.

_"Come away, come away, Death,_  
_And in sad cypress let me be laid;_  
_Fly away, fly away, breath,_  
_I am slain by a fair cruel maid._  
_My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it!_  
_My part of death no one so true did share it._  


_Not a flower, not a flower sweet,_  
_On my black coffin let there be strewn:_  
_Not a friend, not a friend greet_  
_My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown._  
_A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where_  
_Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!"_  


"So the C makes an 'S' sound here, not a 'K' sound…" Haruhi chewed her lip, and Kyouya stared at her. "It is a sad song, though. I'd feel sorry for Orsino if he wasn't such an idiot."

"An _idiot?"_ he asked.

"Yes," she said, clapping her fist in her open hand. "Love isn't worth dying for."

"Spoken like someone who's never been in love," he grumbled.

"Kyouya?" 

He shook his head. "Love is a common topic in Shakespeare's work. Even if you don't agree with his view, many people do. True love is a matter of life and death." 

Haruhi giggled. "Sounds like those _Hanahaki_ dramas my dad loves. 'Oh, I'm going to suffocate and _die_ if you don't kiss me right now!'" Her laughter redoubled.

"Yes, it takes more than a kiss to cure _Hanahaki,"_ he confessed. If it were that easy, he'd have kissed her as soon as he realized and put all this to bed. "The other person has to be in love with them, and _know_ they are in love with them, _and_ accept the afflicted person's love as well."

"How do you know so much about it, Kyouya-kun?"

"Did you forget? My family runs Ootori Medical. We perform the surgery on a routine basis."

"Aah, that explains -"

"Haruhi!" Tamaki exclaimed, sweeping in and grabbing her. She made an uncomfortable squeak sound and Kyouya sighed, realizing they had reached their destination. The conversation had been going so well.

"Let go of me, Senpai," she squeaked out.

"My daughter looks so cute and precious!" Tamaki continued, swaying back and forth as he held her off the ground.

Haruhi balled her fists and pounded his arms where they were wrapped around her waist. "I said let me go!"

"Cute! Cute! Cute!" 

"Tamaki," Kyouya said, pushing his glasses up his nose and glaring at his best friend. "Haruhi told you to let her go."

He placed her down gently, and Haruhi brushed her hands over her clothes, straightening them as best she could before she stalked over to the twins who were leaning against the shop front playing some type of handheld video game. "Mommy," Tamaki whispered. "Do you think she is angry with me?"

"No, Daddy," he said, shaking his head. "She just needs space."

"Space? From _me?"_ The ex-president clutched his chest.

"Haruhi wants to establish her authority as the president of the Host Club," Kyouya said, "and that means not allowing you to interfere. If you want to be close to her, it has to be on her rules, not yours."

Tamaki nodded, then followed her over to the twins. Kyouya thought about joining them, but some distant part told him he would not be welcome. He had been the host club's Shadow King for too long, handling everything behind the scenes so his friends could spend their days on more enjoyable pursuits. Instead he pulled out his cell phone to check the tracking for the equipment that was supposed to arrive.

The day went easily enough, with lots of friendly conversation while they cleaned the shop, assembled furniture, and set up equipment. They took a break for lunch, and the twins ordered sushi for everyone while Haruhi sat down again with her books. Kyouya watched her from the corner, going over his budget for the grand opening event when Hani and Mori sat at his table.

"Yes?" he asked quietly.

"You keep staring at Haru-chan," Hani-senpai giggled into the back of Usa-chan's head. "What are you thinking?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, and he recited:

_"Oh, when mine eyes did see her first,_  
_Methought she purged the air of pestilence._  
_That instant was I turned into a hart._  
_And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,_  
_E'er since pursue me."_  



	4. First and Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the first day of the first term of Haruhi's third year of high school, and the first meeting of the Host Club with her as president.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than usual; I had a bit more to get through before we get into _Quality Host Club Hijinks_ but not enough to justify a whole other chapter.

Kyouya and Haruhi quickly fell into a pattern, over the next two weeks. Every morning, he'd walk over to the Fujioka residence for breakfast. Sometimes Ranka-san would be there, sometimes not. Afterward, they would walk to the coffee shop together. Some days they worked on his plans for the shop: decorating, formulating the menu, taste-testing different offerings; other days he helped her with her classwork, the two of them sitting on a plush couch together looking over her textbooks. His favorite days, though, were the ones when the other hosts were too busy to join them. Just after lunch Haruhi would always insist on taking a nap, and while he was alone with her unconscious form he felt more comfortable painting. 

He had designated the long, blank wall that separated the coffee shop from the dormitory lobby for a mural, that he would change in keeping with the seasons. The shop was set to open on the second day of the new academic year, so he wanted the painting to be finished by then. The flat base colors had been laid three days ago while he had drilled Haruhi on verb conjugations, and now he was finishing the details. 

On a whim, he added Haruhi to the painting, but in a way she wouldn't be recognized: a young woman in a sundress, her back to the viewer. Her short, dark hair was the only clue as to whom it might be, but given Haruhi still presented herself as a man to the rest of the student body, he doubted anyone would notice or care.

Their evenings followed a similar pattern: they would pack up their things and he would walk her home. Whenever her father would be working late, she would continue with Kyouya, first to the grocery store to pick up something to make, then on to his apartment. They hadn't spoken of the kiss since, though there had been moments - especially when they stood side by side at his kitchen counters - that he half-believed she might be amenable to him kissing her again. 

The nights she didn't come over he would make something simple, then sit at his desk and wait for her light to come on so he could call her, and ask how everything was going. These kinds of relationships felt familiar to him, in a way; his family had always been so close to each other, and yet so removed. The part that was new was his desire to move closer, to have her in his apartment every night, to ask her to stay before she asked him to walk her home.

Tonight, her phone rang twice before she answered, and she sighed. "Hey Kyouya."

"Good Evening, Haruhi," he said, taking a seat at his desk and staring at the distant window. "How was dinner with your father?"

"Fine. He got all weepy about how it's my third year."

"It's to be expected. Ranka-san has never been one for stoicism."

She giggled. "No, I suppose not."

"What time would you like me to meet you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Did you forget? Tomorrow is the first day of classes."

"Yes," he nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "And I intend to walk you to school. I need to prepare the coffee shop to receive your new Host Club members, and the orientation for them."

"How often do you intend to walk me to school, Kyouya-kun?"

Damn the woman, she was as perceptive as Hani-senpai when she wanted to be. "Every day," he confessed. "I will have to go to the coffee shop and open up for the morning rush regardless, there's no point in going alone if we're both going the same direction."

"Are you sure you're even going to be able to handle a morning shift?" she teased.

"I will do whatever I have to, if it ensures the shop's success," he said. "But it would certainly help if I could still count on having breakfast with you." The truth was, knowing Haruhi was waiting for him was enough to propel him out of bed most mornings, regardless of how little sleep he'd gotten. He abused her hesitation to indulge in a familiar fantasy - sleeping in with her on a weekend morning, waking up sometime around noon and pulling her close to doze against her skin for a little longer. Kyouya knew it was nothing _but_ a fantasy; Haruhi had never seemed the type to sleep half the day away.

"What will you give me for it?" 

Her words snapped him out of his reverie, and he frowned at the dark shape in the distant window, as if she could see his displeasure. "What do you mean?"

"Originally, you were just supposed to be coming over to get breakfast until you learned to make it for yourself. The same with me coming over to teach you to cook. Somehow I suspect that you're not interested in either arrangement coming to an end. So, I want to know what you're going to give me for sacrificing that much of my free time."

The word _Anything_ bumped against his lips, but he held fast, instead asking, "What do you want?"

"I can't keep up two households, Kyouya," she said. "I will keep helping you with the cooking, if you help me with the cleaning."

A wicked idea occurred to him, and he was only too happy to say, "Agreed."

"Okay then."

"What time are you bringing the new hosts by the shop?" he asked, before he got startled by a knock. As he got up and walked to the door, she said, "I was thinking immediately after school. I want to get the introductions done. Will that be all right?"

"Perfect." He opened the door and smiled down at the small package that had been delivered. "I'll call the others and have them ready. Has Hani-senpai been told yet?"

Haruhi giggled. "I have no idea." 

"This is going to be interesting," he admitted, then took the box into his bedroom and set it on his desk before flopping back in his bed. 

She was quiet for a few heartbeats, but before he had the chance to ask if she was all right, Haruhi whispered, "Do you think I can do it?"

He sat up in bed and looked out at her window again. He could see the dark smudge of her still, and he stood up, going to the window so she could see him, too. "I know you can, Haru-chan," he whispered back. "You are a natural, you were trained by the best, and you have something all the others lack: the courage to see your ambitions to their end."

"Still, the choice was only between the twins and I," she mumbled.

"You know that I don't gamble. If I felt that there was no one fit to run it, I would have convinced Tamaki to dissolve the club at our graduation." 

Humming in the back of her throat, Haruhi sighed. "Do you think I should tell the new members?"

"Tell them what?" He knew what she was asking about, but he wanted the excuse to hear her voice as much as possible.

"That I'm a girl," she said. "Normally it's been an accident that people found out, but I wonder if it would be rude of me, now that I'm club president, to keep such a big secret from them. Especially because the host club was so instrumental in helping me keep that secret before."

"I suppose the question becomes, do you want to continue to keep the secret for this last year?" he asked.

"Yes." Her response was near-immediate. "I… oh, this sounds stupid."

"Try me."

On the other end of the line, Haruhi sighed. "It's hard for me to let people take care of me and protect me. You know that."

He remembered the sick feeling of fear he'd had, that day on the beach, seeing her fall from the cliff into the sea. The only reason he hadn't jumped after her with Tamaki had been the overwhelming desire to put the man who'd thrown her six feet in the ground.

"Having you all know my secret, and help me keep it… It made me feel like you all cared about me."

"We _do,"_ he reminded her. 

"That's why I didn't tell anyone, even after the debt was paid. That's why I stayed a member of the Host Club. You all are my friends, and…" She sighed heavily. "I have a lot of confusing emotions over the whole thing. I don't know why, but I want to know what you, specifically, think about it."

He tilted his head. "I'm of two minds."

"Oh?"

"On the one hand, telling the new members would make them feel more loyal to the club itself. Think of it as an initiation rite: upon joining the host club, they learn it's big secret - Fujioka Haruhi is a girl." The shape in her bedroom window shifted slightly. "On the other hand, I know that I, at least, feel somewhat possessive of your secret. I like being one of the few people who knows the real you, Haru-chan."

"You're starting to sound like Hani-senpai."

Kyouya chuckled darkly. "Am I?"

Haruhi gasped then, a small, timid thing like the girls he used to host for had when he doled out some of his rare affection. Gripping the edge of his desk, Kyouya fought down the urge to ask her to come over. He had never wanted to follow where those gasps led until now.

"I… I need to go," Haruhi said. "It's late."

"You still haven't told me what time to be at your home in the morning."

"Seven."

"I will see you then. Good Night."

"Good Night, Kyouya."

As soon as she hung up the phone, Haruhi buried her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? Kyouya didn't want _her._ He wanted the Host Club. He wanted his business to succeed. He wanted his family back. She was just another tool, like everyone else he used in his ambition. That kiss had meant nothing to him. She needed to forget it.

* * *

It had been strange to go into the coffee shop alone.

Kyouya was surprised at how quickly he had become accustomed to having Haruhi at his side for hours every day, and found himself irritated that she had to go to classes. Even so, he would not get in the way of her ambitions when they were one of the things he loved most about her. 

At least he wasn't alone for long; Tamaki, Morinozuka, and Haninozuka showed up just after lunch to help him apply the finishing touches. They also brought the package from the twin's mother, Hitachiin Yuzuha-sama - the uniforms for the Hosts at the coffee shop. They were perfectly tailored suits (not that he expected any less), but the one sent for him was slightly nicer than the others, with subtle geometric patterns in the fabric. It was beautifully modern, and he was pleased that their mother remembered his tastes.

"All right, gentlemen," Kyouya said, adjusting his cuffs. "After school today, Haruhi will be bringing the new Hosts to the cafe to begin their training. She has also decided to inform them that she is a girl, as a way of establishing camaraderie. Our job will be to determine their types, with Renge-chan's help, and instruct them on how to be proper hosts. Does anyone have any questions?"

Tamaki's hand shot up instantly, and Kyouya turned in his direction. "Tamaki-kun?"

"Why doesn't Haruhi call you 'Kyouya-senpai' anymore?"

"How is that relevant?"

"Answer the question." The blond pouted. "Are you compromising my precious daughter?" 

Kyouya looked down at his folio. "Does anyone have any pertinent questions?"

Standing up so fast his chair tumbled to the ground, Tamaki shouted, "Kyouya-kun!"

Kyouya sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. "I informed Haruhi that as we were no longer students at the same school, and she is assisting me with making this business successful, _and_ she has been teaching me how to maintain my own home, I thought the honorific was no longer appropriate." He knew Tamaki was acting out of jealousy, and despite his possessive nature, he couldn't bring himself to tell his friend the true reason: He wanted her to call him 'Kyo' and 'Kyo-chan' more often than anything else.

Tamaki frowned, and for a moment it seemed like he was going to argue, but Hani-senpai diffused the situation with a laugh before he said, "Kyouya-kun has really matured, hasn't he, Mori-kun."

Mori made a quiet noise of agreement and nodded. 

"So when will they be here, Kyo-chan?"

He turned to Haninozuka. "Classes end at half past three, so probably between then and four."

"Then we better hurry!" the eldest host said, and Kyouya was thankful for him redirecting the conversation.

* * *

"They're almost here!" Hani-senpai called from the window.

"Places everyone!" Tamaki said excitedly, and the four of them straightened their suits, standing behind an antique chair. 

Then the doors opened, and Haruhi entered, followed by the twins, Renge, and a few underclassmen. Her chin high, she strode pointedly to the chair and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other, while the twins took their places on either side of her. 

"Welcome to the Ootori Cafe," Haruhi said, "For the next two weeks, this will be where you train to be hosts."

The boys stared at her, wide-eyed, and Kyouya couldn't help but be impressed by her. Haruhi held her chin high, and her bearing had all the presence of Tamaki with all the imperiousness that Kyouya himself was known for. The underclassmen stared at all of them in no small amount of awe… at least until Hani-senpai squealed and ran forward towards his brother. "Chika-chan! Sato-chan!" He and Mori-senpai's younger brothers, now second-years, blushed, and the outburst seemed to have broken the spell. Everyone started talking at once, and the club president laughed into her hand. 

Chika and Hani began to square off, and Haruhi stood, her voice ringing off the walls. "Haninozukas! If you're going to fight, take it home. Hosts do not engage in wanton violence publicly, except in the defense of our beautiful princesses."

The brothers froze, both of them looking at Haruhi in surprise before Hani-senpai smiled, and Chika-chan gave her a sharp nod. "Yes, Fujioka-senpai." 

Haruhi relaxed and turned to Tamaki. "Can you please go and help Renge determine their basic types while I start making coffee for everyone?"

He nodded eagerly, introducing himself to the small cluster of students and asking about their hobbies, while Haruhi stepped behind the counter and began portioning out the imported coffee beans for the grinder. Seeing the opportunity, Kyouya stepped around the counter and joined her, flipping the switches on the various coffee machines and espresso makers to get the water heating.

"How did I do?" she whispered under her breath.

"You were perfect," he replied softly. "Not that I expected any less from you, Haru-chan."

Her cheeks flushed slightly. "Kyouya-kun, there's something I wanted to -"

"Haruhi," Hikaru said, leaning against the counter. "Are you telling secrets?"

She laughed and shook her head. "No, no… I was just going to tell Kyouya-kun that I've decided I'm ready to start dating for real. It's my third year. I don't want to graduate without a high school romance."

The conversation around the room died, as one by one the original Host Club turned to look at her. Kyouya felt his eye twitch behind his glasses before everything erupted. 

"Haruhi!" Hikaru said, vaulting the counter to get closer. "What are you doing after school on -"

"Hey, What do you think you're doing?" Tamaki shouted at him before turning to her. "Haruhi, let me take you to -"

"I had no idea so many of the hosts were gay!" Renge said excitedly.

The front door of the cafe burst open, Kasanoda-kun framed in the afternoon sunlight. "Haruhi-kun is ready to date?"

Kyouya scowled. "None of you are taking Haruhi anywhere. Just because she said she's ready to date doesn't mean -"

"Wait, _'she'?"_ Chika-chan called from across the room, and then the crowd descended into utter pandemonium as everyone was shouting at each other.

Everyone, that is, save Haruhi, who curled in on herself and seemed to flinch away from the thunderous noise they were making. Kyouya saw the opportunity, and put an arm around her shoulders, quietly guiding her into the back office where he handled the paperwork while everyone else argued about who would get to date Haruhi and who had or had not known that she was a girl. 

Guiding her to sit in the desk chair, he pulled his ipod and headphones out of a drawer. "Listen to music to drown them out. I'll come collect you when it's time to walk you home." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before taking the headphones and placing them gently over her ears.

Once he was sure she was secure, Kyouya walked back into the front room, unable to restrain his temper any longer. "EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

The room fell to silence again as everyone stared in shock that the always-collected cool-type Ootori Kyouya had not only shouted, but swore in the process. He coughed once into his hand then straightened his suit. "That was not how we intended to tell you all, but yes. Fujioka is a girl. She has always been a girl, and it is the Host Club secret. As members of the Host Club," here, he fixed each of the new hosts in turn, "it is your responsibility to help her keep this secret until graduation."

"And if any of you tell Haruhi's secret," Kasanoda threatened from the door, his face twisted into the most frightening scowl Kyouya had ever seen, "you will answer to the Kasanoda group."

"And the Ootori secret police," Kyouya added.

"And the Haninozuka and Morinozuka families," Hani-senpai said, with Mori, Chika, and Satoshi nodding in agreement. 

"Not to mention my father is the chairman," Tamaki said, crossing one leg over the other. "It would be a shame if you were to cause a scandal in the school."

Malevolent laughter pulled everyone's attention to the mural, where Nekozawa-senpai had stuck his head through the door to the dormitories, draped in his customary robe and waving Beelzenef's arms at them. "You should not forget the dark curses that may befall you as well, should you cause the hidden maiden distress…"

The new students swallowed anxiously, then nodded. "We uh… we won't tell anyone."

Tamaki stood and approached the boy who had spoken. "What is your name?"

"Junoichi Takahiro, Suoh-senpai!" 

"And why do you want to be a host, Takahiro-kun?"

The boy looked at his feet. "You guys… you made my sister happy when she was a student at Ouran."

"Junoichi…" Tamaki blinked in surprise. "Your sister is Ayame?"

"Yes!" Takahiro nodded. "She told me how you guys were smart and cool and always did the right thing, and I wanted to learn to be like you."

Tamaki glanced at the timid boy behind him. "And you?"

"Suzushima Isao," he said. "My brother said you guys helped him learn to be a man."

Glancing back at Kyouya over his shoulder, Tamaki grinned, and Kyouya nodded his agreement.

"Very well then," Tamaki announced. "You have learned the Host Club's secret, and declared your intentions. Tonight, you will go home and think about what 'type' you are. Kaoru, Hikaru?"

"Yes, Tamaki-kun?" The twins said in unison, saluting. 

"You will email them the breakdown for them to review tonight, and they will return here after school tomorrow to determine if those types are a fit, and to begin their training." Tamaki ran a hand through his hair. "Renge-chan, can you walk them back to the school? I think the rest of us need to have a meeting."

She nodded and gathered up the new hosts, taking them with her as she left, though she made a point of stopping at the door. "We will be having a conversation about this later."

"Yes, yes," Tamaki said lazily, then flopped down into the nearest seat. 

Once they had departed, silence reigned in the shop for a few seconds, until Tamaki looked up at the ceiling. "I suppose it's time to ask Haruhi to marry me."

Everyone exploded again, until Haninozuka-senpai climbed on a table and shouted _"QUIET!"_

The outburst worked, and they stopped speaking while Hani put his hands on his hips. "Raise your hand if you want to date Haru-chan!"

Kyouya watched as the others raised their hands at the same time he did, even Nekozawa-senpai, who raised one of Beelzenef's arms as well as his own. He was a little surprised to see Hani-senpai's hand in the air as well, but when he raised an eyebrow, the other man just winked.

"Okay! Then we have to do this fair, so there are gonna be rules!" Hani-senpai announced. "We'll take turns."

Kasanoda looked horrified, and Kaoru said, "I don't think that's how that works…"

Undeterred, the eldest host continued. "We'll draw straws for who gets to ask Haru-chan out! If she says yes, that person gets to date her for a month! Then when the next month comes around, whoever's next can ask her out, and Haru-chan can choose if she wants to date them or stay with the person she's currently dating."

The other men in the room all exchanged glances, and Hani-senpai held up one finger. "And no one can confess to her until she's been asked by everyone and we've all had our month! Only _then_ can you confess!"

Though he tried to pretend otherwise, Kyouya couldn't ignore the fact that Hani was staring right at him, but before he could say anything Hikaru shrugged. "Why would we follow these rules?"

Tamaki scowled. "Because we are the Host Club! And the first rule of the Host Club is that we make girls happy. Haruhi should get her chance to be happy."

Hani-senpai nodded eagerly. "Don't you agree, Kyo-chan?"

Closing his eyes, Kyouya shrugged. "I suppose." He agreed Haruhi deserved to be happy, but he didn't believe any of these idiots could give her that like he could.

"Yay!" Honey cheered and jumped down from the table, then grabbed a handful of little wooden stirring sticks from a side table, and wrote the coming months on them. Then he mixed them up and tucked them into his fist so the months were hidden. "Okay! Everyone take one!"

They gathered around Haninozuka, and one by one they took sticks from him. As Kyouya reached out for one, he noticed Hani subtly slide an extra stick into his hand, so that was the one he took, before Nekozawa had Beelzenef pull a stick for him.

Hani-senpai waved the last stick in the air. "I get to date Haru-chan first! Yay!!"

Kyouya did a quick head count, then glanced at his stick, with "November" written in Haninozuka's neat hand. "And I suppose I'm last."

* * *

After the others had left, Kyouya cleaned things up to prepare for the next day, and made a pot of coffee with the grounds Haruhi had started, before portioning it up into a pair of to-go cups. Then he carried them to the back office and opened the door. "Haruhi?"

She had curled herself up in the chair with her knees drawn up to her chest. Though she was doing her best to seem unbothered, he could see the way her chin trembled when she took off the headphones. "Are they gone?"

Kyouya set the cups on the desk and nodded. "It's all taken care of. The twins are emailing the new members their review materials, Tamaki and Renge are helping to determine their niches, and Hani-senpai handled the drama about your announcement."

Her face fell. "Everyone was fighting because of me."

"Maybe, but it was a fight that needed to happen. You shouldn't blame yourself." Kneeling in front of the chair, he brushed her bangs out of her face and looked into her eyes. "Their immaturity is not your fault."

"No, but it is my responsibility. I'm supposed to balance all this -"

"No," Kyouya shook his head. "Your job is to handle the _High School_ Host Club. Let me handle everyone else."

"And how are you going to make me pay for that?" Her smile was bitter, making him frown.

"Haruhi, I don't want -"

"Yes, you do." She stood up and pushed past him, heading out of the office. "I know you, Ootori Kyouya. You always want _something."_ Haruhi laughed. "I don't think you could live with yourself if you did not have some secret plot or fervent ambition."

He grabbed the cups and followed her to the counter, where she pulled her bag out and put it over her shoulder. "I have a lot of homework, so I'm going home."

"Will you let me walk you?" 

Haruhi stopped at the door and hung her head. After a few moments of silence, she said, "I'd be more angry if you didn't."

Kyouya grabbed his own bag and followed her out, offering her one of the cups of coffee. "No point in letting it go to waste," he said quietly.

"Thanks." She wrapped her hands around it and sipped the drink until they were out of sight of the school. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"It's fine," he said off-handedly. "You were right, in any case. There are things I want, but I would hazard a guess that you don't actually know what they are."

"I'm almost certain I don't," Haruhi replied. "Because up until half-an-hour ago, I thought when I told you that I was ready to date that you'd jump on the chance. But you didn't."

"I almost did, before I remembered my long-term goals." He sipped his own coffee. "Dating you _now_ would be counterproductive."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He chuckled and motioned for her to walk up the stairs to her apartment ahead of him, not providing her an answer until she set her coffee cup on the railing. "Kyouya-kun. I asked you for an explanation."

Remembering the way she had gasped on the phone last night, Kyouya reached out, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. "Because, Haru-chan," he whispered in her ear, so close that he could see the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end from the caress of his breath. "I refuse to be your first love; what _I_ want is to be your last."

Kyouya released her, and Haruhi stumbled back against her door, watching him with wide eyes and forgetting herself to the point that she didn't even try to conceal the riotous blush across her cheeks.

"I hope your last year of high school is everything you hope for, Haru-chan," he said, picking up her coffee and holding it out to her. She took it and drank deeply, staring at him over the rim of the plastic lid. "I'll be watching."

Then he turned and walked away, forcing himself to keep moving despite the urge to run back and kiss her senseless.


	5. April - I want to go to Disneyland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hani-senpai takes Haruhi out on their date.

Haruhi did not acknowledge his declaration from the previous evening that night during their phone call, but at breakfast the next morning, she had more pressing concerns. 

"A _maid?"_ she shouted, tearing open the door to her apartment within fifteen seconds of his knock. "I asked you to help with the cleaning and you hire me a _maid?_ Can you even afford that?"

"I traded a favor for her services," he said simply, reaching out to pat her head. "Sometimes having connections is half the battle." He glanced around. "Where is Ranka-san?"

"His bar had a staff meeting this morning, so he had to head out early." Haruhi returned to the kitchen while he followed her in, and she started moving the various breakfast dishes from the stove to the table. "Did you sleep well?"

Kyouya walked to his usual seat at her table but paused behind her, and said, "As well as I could, considering how empty my apartment feels without you in it."

"You said you're not going to date me, so stop flirting with me." She flopped down onto her knees at her usual spot beside him. "Itadakimasu."

"Itadakimasu," he mumbled, then pointedly added, "No."

She scowled at him but didn't argue, and he smirked around a bite of salmon.

* * *

"Haru-chan!!" Hani-senpai threw his arms around her as soon as she arrived after school, the rest of the student hosts in tow. 

"Hello, Senpai!" she said brightly, and he tugged her hand over to the small table he had claimed as his own and sat her in one of the chairs. "We have work to do Senpai, we shouldn't -"

"Uh-uh!" He replied, shoving Usa-chan into her arms. "Tama-chan and Renge-chan are handling it! You and I are going to have cake!"

"Cake?" she asked curiously. "But Hani-senpai, I didn't bring money for -"

"Kyo-chan would be mad if you tried to pay for anything, Haru-chan."

"I wouldn't be mad if she attempted it," he said smoothly, setting a slice of strawberry chantilly cake in front of each of them. "I would simply refuse to accept the money."

Haruhi glared up at him but he ignored her, going back to ring up the customers that were coming in, mostly curious students checking out the new business near school. Tamaki and Renge were sitting on low couches with the new hosts, discussing their 'host personas', while Mori-senpai sat with one of his old regulars, catching up on how things had gone in the year since they'd graduated.

The door to the dormitories opened, and Nekozawa-senpai entered, then held the door for a young lady in the yellow dress that marked her as a student, pushing herself in a wheelchair. The two of them approached the counter, and Kyouya gave them both his best host smile. "What can I get for you, Nekozawa-senpai and Miss…?"

"Mayashita Fumiko," she said brightly, looking around. "Do you do iced coffee?"

"Of course," he said, making a note in his folio. "Milk or sugar?"

"Both, please." Fumiko glanced around eagerly. "This is a lovely place you have here, Ootori-san."

Kyouya laughed. "Please, Ootori-san is my father. You can call me Kyouya-senpai. I only graduated a few weeks ago." He glanced over at Nekozawa. "And for you?"

"Black coffee," the shrouded man replied. "With the blood of pure maidens, slain under the light of a full moon."

"We have cherry syrup. Will that work, senpai?"

"That will suffice." Beelzenef rubbed his paws together. "Mistress Fumiko has a request for you, Kyouya-kun. I hope you can do your best to accommodate her." 

Raising one eyebrow, Kyouya looked back down at the girl. "Oh?"

Fumiko blushed. "I heard you had a piano in here, and I was hoping you might be willing to work out some kind of arrangement to let me play it." She tapped the chair pointedly. "My rooms in the dormitory aren't large enough to hold a piano and it's difficult for me to get to the music rooms on school grounds. With how much closer this cafe is…" She looked wistfully over to the grand piano Kyouya had rented from the school to celebrate the grand opening. He had initially been planning to return it in a week, but the beginnings of a plan curled through the back of his mind like smoke.

"Kaoru-kun, Hikaru-kun" he called, lifting his voice. "Can you make these drinks for Fumiko-kun and Nekozawa-senpai while I show the young lady to the piano?"

Hikaru seemed about to complain, but then Kaoru saw what Kyouya was betting on - Tamaki's head lifted at the mention of the piano. "Sure thing, Kyouya-senpai," Kaoru said, answering for them both, and Kyouya left the notes about the order on the counter while he escorted Fumiko across the cafe. 

He completely ignored Tamaki, as if the man didn't even exist, while he moved aside the piano bench and gave the girl space to situate herself. "Did you bring your own sheet music, or would you like to see the selection we have?" he asked.

"I don't require sheet music today," she said. "But if I do I'll make sure to bring my own."

"I'll have your coffee sent over when it's ready," he said, then bowed and returned to the counter. Together, he and the Hitachiin twins watched Tamaki watch Fumiko as she lifted her hands to the keys, and started to play.

The curious look on Tamaki's face vanished when she launched into the opening of Rachmaninoff's 'Prelude in G Minor', replaced quickly with one of absolute shock. Though Kyouya himself did not play, he could tell the song required no small amount of skill given the way his closest friend stood enraptured.

The song ended, and Kyouya decided he needed a reason for his friend to break the ice. "Tamaki-kun," he called, and the blond made his way over, but kept glancing back over his shoulder to the girl at the piano. "Could you take Fumiko-kun her drink? I have to man the counter." Nevermind the fact that there is no one else at the counter save Nekozawa, who is curled eagerly around his cup of cherry-black coffee and the twins, who were manning the counter just fine without him. 

None of that mattered to Tamaki, who nodded and snatched the delicate saucer and teacup from Kyouya's hands and turned on his host club charm as he approached the piano. "Ah, you must be Fumiko-hime," he began, and Kyouya took that as his cue to tune him out. With Tamaki suitably distracted, Kyouya glanced over at Hani-senpai, who tilted his head to one side.

Kyouya gave him a short, nearly imperceptible nod, and Haninozuka grinned. "Anyway, Haru-chan," he said. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Haruhi blinked. "A date?" She frowned and furrowed her brow. "I thought you had a girlfriend, Hani-senpai. Wouldn't Kanazuki-senpai be angry?"

He shook his head. "I talked to Reiko-chan and she agreed we could have a lot of fun! It is your first date, right?"

"Hey!" Kasanoda said, jumping from his seat where he was waiting for Haruhi to be free. "You can't ask someone on a date when you already have a girlfriend!"

"Why not?" Hani-senpai swung his legs - legs that still didn't quite reach the ground. "Haru-chan and I are friends. I want to go out and play with Haru-chan!"

Kyouya had to school his face most carefully to suppress a laugh. Though he understood Haninozuka-senpai's actual meaning - that he wanted to go do something fun with Haruhi, and _just_ Haruhi - the implications of "playing with" her had both Kasanoda and the twins looking on in horrified shock.

Since she hadn't given an answer, Hani continued, "I want to go to Disneyland with you, Haru-chan!"

She tapped her chin. "It will have to be on a Sunday, but I guess so." As if deciding for sure, Haruhi nodded sharply. "Okay, Hani-senpai! It sounds like fun!"

"Yay!" he cheered. "Kyouya-kun! Bring us more cake!"

* * *

Haruhi glanced nervously at the clouds clinging to the horizon as she and Hani-senpai walked through the park, one of his hands in hers, the other clutching Usa-chan tightly against his chest. 

They had arrived just after opening, and of course he had some type of special pass that let them skip the lines and get the best seats. He took her on a whirlwind of rides, one after another after another until she was dizzy with strange perfumes, overly-loud music, and so much spinning.

Now he was leading her towards a restaurant themed after one of the animated movies Disney produced, this one about a quiet, reserved girl who lived with her eccentric father and enjoyed reading, and fell in love with an intimidating, self-centered -

She suddenly decided not to think too much about _that_ anymore and focus on the menu Hani-senpai shoved into her hands. "I'm gonna order all the desserts, okay, Haru-chan? You pick what we should have for lunch." He set his stuffed rabbit up in the chair beside him. 

"Hmm…" she looked at the offerings, so lost in thought she didn't notice the group of teenagers that had just walked into the restaurant.

"Hey, Kyouya-kun," the twins said in unison. "If you're here, who's watching the cafe?"

Pushing his glasses up his nose, he replied, "There's no school today, so there's no point in opening when the majority of my customer base is students and former students. I'm not going to waste the money on labor costs."

Tamaki, meanwhile, was crouched behind a fake rose bush and pouting. "I can't believe I never thought to take our daughter to Disneyland, Mommy."

"I suggested it last year, but you insisted that Tokyo Disney wasn't good enough, and you were going to take her to Disney World in America."

"It's not my fault she doesn't have a passport!" Tamaki announced, shooting to his feet.

For a moment, Haruhi was sure she'd heard a familiar voice, but as she went to look around, Hani-senpai suddenly spoke up. "Haru-chan, why did you decide you wanted to date _now?"_

She shrugged. "Like I said, I don't want to graduate without a high school romance."

"I heard that, but why now? Why not last year?"

"What do you mean?" The waitress placed a little plate of croissants between them and she picked one up, tearing it into bite size pieces to hide her nervousness. But, she wasn't nervous. No, she couldn't be. Nothing Hani-senpai was asking was unusual.

"Well, he was still a student last year, and Mori-chan and I thought you were going to date…"

Haruhi blinked. "You mean Tamaki-senpai?"

He shook his head. "Kyo-chan."

Her anxiety blossomed in her chest, and she remembered all the times the two of them stood in the back, watching the others' antics in Music Room 3 and making jokes together. It fluttered up out of her chest as a nervous laugh, and she wondered if that's what _Hanahaki_ felt like. "W-why would you think I would date Kyo-chan?" Her cheeks were burning. "H-he has made it clear there is no merit in having a relationship with me."

Hani-senpai giggled. "He's the only one you let in."

"I don't… I let all of you in!" she insisted, before shoving a bite of croissant into her mouth.

"Then why did you just call him Kyo-chan?"

Haruhi gasped, realizing her public persona had slipped in front of Hani-senpai, then realized she _had_ a public persona, and the only person who had seen behind it was…

"None of that matters." She insisted. "He only wants to date me now because there is benefit. He's turning those stupid Host Club megane-type skills on me because he needs to make sure I help him for the whole school year. If he didn't want something from me he wouldn't waste the energy."

When she looked up, Hani-senpai was smiling warmly. "You've always been smart, Haru-chan. But sometimes you're too smart for your own good."

Then the first serving of cake arrived, and all conversation died as Japan's deadliest weapon proceeded to gorge himself on sweets.

"How does he do it?" Hikaru asked after they departed the restaurant, staring at Honey-senpai as he dragged Haruhi toward a roller coaster. 

Kaoru shuddered. "He just ate his weight in cake and now he goes to Space Mountain?"

"Hani-senpai is a creature to be feared," Tamaki exclaimed, glaring in their senpai's direction. 

Kyouya didn't listen to any of them. He was too focused on the darkening clouds overhead.

* * *

Haruhi felt the gentle rush of wind and noticed the way the leaves on all the trees had turned themselves over, exposing their pale, silver-green undersides to the cloudy sky. "H-Hani-senpai," she said anxiously. "Maybe we should head home."

"Awww, Haru-chan," he pouted. "One more ride? _Pleeee~eeease??"_

"I don't know, it looks like rain…" Her fingers tightened around the strap for her purse. 

"We'll ride the teacups, okay? They're under a pavilion so we'll be safe!" Hani-senpai grabbed her wrist and dragged her after him to the line for the Mad Hatter's Tea Party. She tried to remind herself that she could do this, she could tuck in one more ride before the storm reached them. And Haninozuka had been so nice to invite her out to Tokyo Disney, pay for everything, and that conversation he'd had with her at lunch.

_"He's the only one you let in."_

"Okay, Hani-senpai."

She thought that would be the end of it, but when they were about halfway through the line, he started looking around. "H-Haru-chan?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"Have you seen Usa-chan?"

Haruhi frowned. "Usa-chan?" She blinked. Had he even brought - she remembered the stuffed pink bunny, being settled into the chair next to him. "You had it at the restaurant, I think."

His eyes widened, and he looked back the way they had come. "I'll be right back, Haru-chan! Save our place in line!" Then he released her hand, darting away through the crowd.

"Wait!" she called after him, trying to catch his hand. "Hani-senpai, the storm, I -" But he was already gone, running back in the direction of the restaurant. Her eyes flicked up to the storm, and she exhaled slowly. She could do this. She could wait. He'd go get Usa-chan and be right back. It wasn't like she'd be out any longer than she initially expected. She just needed to hold on a few minutes.

* * *

Kyouya frowned as he looked up at the sky. Haruhi and Hani-senpai hadn't left yet, and with the storm approaching, they should have already been making their way out. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and glanced down at it. Hani-senpai's face had appeared, and below it, in bright letters, the words: "I left Haru-chan at the Teacups! You better hurry!" He didn't bother to check if the others were following when he heard the distant rumble of thunder - he just bolted in the direction of Fantasyland. 

The rain was coming harder when he saw her, paralyzed in fear in a pink and white teacup gondola while two ride attendants were trying to politely ask her to disembark so that others could enjoy the ride. Kyouya didn't bother to wait for permission - he vaulted the fence and sprinted over to her. "She's with me," he announced, and pushed past the staff to Haruhi's side. "Haru-chan."

At the sound of his voice she looked up at him, still terrified, but one trembling hand reached out for him. He took it without a word, and then pulled the rest of her up into his arms. "Kyo-chan," she whispered into his ear as she established a death grip around his neck.

"I'll get her home," he told the attendants. "If any of our friends come looking for Fujioka Haruhi or Ootori Kyouya, you can tell them as much." Turning on his heel, he dismissed them from his attention, carrying Haruhi through the rain and ignoring the way she tightened her arms around him to the point he could barely breathe every time the thunder crashed. 

He cut through the castle at the center of the park, making his way to the main gate, and he thanked every god he could think of that Haninozuka's limo was still waiting for them in the parking lot. Snapping off the destination to the driver, he quickly put Haruhi inside and climbed in after her.

Another crack of thunder and Haruhi shrieked, then curled into a ball, trying to tuck herself into the smallest space possible as if it could protect her from the noise. The chauffeur shut the door behind him and he reached for her, pulling her into his lap and locking his arms around her like a vice. "I've got you, Haru-chan," he whispered. 

Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the drive, but she didn't pull away, or object when he carried her up the stairs to his apartment.

* * *

Haruhi came back to herself in pieces. 

First was the weight; both the weight of her own body, pressing down into a mattress far better than any she'd had before; then the weight of the arm and leg thrown haphazardly over her, holding her close against a familiar chest; then the weight of the blanket over that, granting her the same comfort.

Next was the heat: the heat of Kyouya's body and hers, mingled together under his comforter; the heat of his breath in her hair, just beside where his lips were pressed to her hairline; and the heat of his fingers on the small of her back, underneath her shirt.

Last was the light: the pale light of morning through his bedroom window, casting him in silver-limned silhouette; the light from the living room reflecting off his glasses which sat haphazardly on his face while he slept - she wondered idly why he hadn't taken them off before falling asleep; then the light that blossomed in his face when he opened his eyes and found her there, cradled in his arms.

"Haru-chan," Kyouya whispered, his voice rough with sleep and something else, and she found herself suddenly irritated that his morning breath smelled like roses.


	6. May - Love and War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tamaki declares his intentions to Haruhi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Tamaki/Haruhi is the canon ending, but I've always had a problem with that ending, for reasons I detail in this chapter. Also, this is a Kyouya/Haruhi fic so I gotta nip that in the bud.

"Haru-chan," Kyouya whispered again, then he pulled Haruhi closer and she could feel every line of him pressed against her, including those she'd only seen diagrams of in health class.

"K-Kyouya-kun, I…" His fingers beneath her shirt slid higher, tracing the curve of her spine. "I should go…" she lamented, but her hands were moving up his chest, and she tilted her face up toward his.

"Is that really what you want?" His lips were terrifyingly close to hers, but his hands left her body. "I will not keep you here if -" 

"Shut up," she murmured, then tilted up her chin, kissing him herself. His hands were back on her skin instantly, and he was far more insistent now than he had been with their last kiss. Kyouya dug his fingernails into her skin, as ruthless with his grip as he was with the kiss, tearing control of it away from her when he caught her lip between his teeth and making her gasp.

She wanted more, and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a life preserver. His tongue pushed past her lips, and she felt a shiver race through her. Even if this kiss was just an attempt to seduce her for his own goals, she could be allowed to enjoy it, right?

All too quickly, Kyouya pulled away from her and sat up. He turned, staring out his window. "The next time you kiss me, Haruhi, I want you to actually _mean_ it."

* * *

It had been almost three weeks since she'd woken up in Kyouya's arms, since that kiss, since he had pushed her away. For the most part, Haruhi tried not to think about it. It had felt amazing, but she was still irritated about his insolent demand that she "mean" it. He certainly didn't. But that was always Kyouya - demanding far more in return than he ever gave. Still, it was hard to not be a little disappointed. He had been far nicer to wake up to than an alarm. 

With a heavy sigh, she swung her legs out of bed and stood up, stretching. It wasn't quite dawn yet, and she could see light in Kyouya's apartment. Not the brightness of the overhead light, but the dimmer, almost orange light of his desk lamp. It was the only light he could handle in the mornings. She hated that she knew that. 

Well, no matter. She tore the page off her day-to-day calendar and nodded at the brightly colored "May 1st!" on the new page. Things would be different now. She could focus on school, and -

"I'm telling you, we don't have _room!"_ her father shouted from the front room, and Haruhi's eyebrows shot up.

Three quick steps took her to her bedroom door and pushed it open, shocked to see red and white roses clogging every available surface. "What is all this?" she asked, stepping around the sudden brambles of thorns and blossoms that made it difficult to navigate her hallway. "Where did all these come from?"

When she got to the living room, she saw two delivery men standing in the living room, holding more roses. "Oh, Damnit," she grumbled, then approached them. "Look, I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong apartment, we -"

"No, they have the right one, Haruhi," her father growled from the corner, his arms crossed. "These are all from that Tamaki you went to school with."

Haruhi ground her teeth together. "Of course." She stormed past the flowers to her kitchen, and started moving flowers off the counters, shoving them into the arms of the already overburdened delivery men. "I need to make breakfast. Take these, and get out." She flipped on the coffee pot she had prepared the night before, and opened the fridge to see what she had for breakfast.

One of them said, "Suoh-san asks that you come outside to see him once you -"

"He's outside!?" she snapped, and ignoring the fact that she was still in her pajamas, she picked her way through the living room and out onto the walkway.

* * *

Kyouya frowned as he turned onto Haruhi's street and saw dozens of delivery vans parked up and down the lane. Was something going on? He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to call Haruhi and ask about it.

Snapping it open, his eyes landed on the date - May 1 - at the same time he heard Haruhi's voice ringing in the morning air. "Tamaki-senpai! I need to get ready for school! These flowers won't even -"

"Oh, Princess Haruhi!" Tamaki's voice answered. "Long have I yearned to declare my undying…" He paused. "Wait, you're not wearing the dress."

Rounding the fence to her building, it took every ounce of Kyouya's self-control to keep his amusement from showing on his face. Thousands of red and white roses seemed to spill out of Haruhi's apartment, along the walkway, and down the steps. Ribbons fluttered from every railing, and amidst it all, Haruhi stood in her pajamas, seething with anger.

"What _dress?"_ she shouted, glaring down at Tamaki, who was dressed as a knight, standing in a horse-drawn carriage (trimmed with even _more_ roses) in the parking lot. 

"The gown I sent for you," Tamaki said, resting one hand on the ostentatious ornamental sword at his hip. "Then I may declare my undying love for you, and we can ride off together to our beautiful date."

"Date!?" Haruhi seemed to be growing even angrier, so Kyouya decided to get out of the blast zone and made his way up the stairs to Haruhi's apartment.

"Kyouya!" Tamaki called, "Kyouya- what are you?"

He blatantly ignored him, focused instead on navigating to the door. As he passed, Haruhi glanced up at him. "Coffee's on, but I haven't been able to start breakfast yet."

Nodding and placing a hand on top of her head, he said, "I'll take care of it." He grinned. "It seems as though you have enough to worry about."

Haruhi smiled. "Thanks, Kyouya." Then she turned the full force of her anger on Tamaki, while he went hunting for some eggs.

* * *

After school that day, Kyouya walked into the back office of the coffee shop to find Haruhi sitting at the desk, glowering down at a notebook with the same venom she'd offered Tamaki that morning. "Hmm?" he asked quietly, reaching past her to pull down his inventory folio. 

"Just frustrated," she mumbled. "Host club stuff."

He perched on the edge of the desk beside her. "How can I help?"

"You're too busy." Haruhi chewed at her lip.

"Not for you." Realizing what he'd said, he pushed his glasses up his nose to hide his discomfort. "I agreed to help you with Host Club business."

"You agreed to help with the budgeting," she argued, but leaned back in her chair and looked up at him. "Renge thinks Chika-chan is a good fit for the cool-type."

"Isn't he a little temperamental?" Kyouya laughed, and without thinking, set his hand down on Haruhi's, but she didn't pull away.

"Only around Hani-senpai," she said. "When they're apart, he's an observant, level-headed young man. He just needs to learn a little self-control. I think he'll make a good president, after I graduate."

"What about the others?" He curled his hand around hers, and felt her thumb brush idly across his knuckles.

"Sato-chan is the sports-type, according to Renge. He's still in kendo as well as the host club, and apparently it's a subset of the mischievous type that is more wholesome. She thinks it will be a good compliment to Hikaru and Kaoru." Neither of them looked down at their clutched hands on the desk. "Takahiro-kun is the stoic-type. You can see it a mile away, so he'll be working with Mori-senpai, and Isao-kun has the potential to become the prince-type, if he only gets a little more confident." Haruhi shook her head. "I need to talk to Tamaki-senpai about it, but I'm still angry at him for this morning."

Kyouya chuckled. "Do you remember when you joined the host club? Tamaki's nonsensical lectures?"

Haruhi's smile bloomed across her face. "I had been in the Host Club all of five minutes and he was instructing me on the proper way to set down a glass, as if that were the important part."

"And then you called him 'obnoxious.'" He couldn't help but laugh, and soon she joined him. Without thinking, he tugged on her hand and she stood, allowing herself to be pulled into his arms.

"And you threatened me with the Ootori Private Police Force if I tried to avoid paying my debt," she said, rolling her eyes. "That's when I knew you were a mercenary asshole."

He shrugged and let his hand ghost over her blazer to the small of her back. "I have never hidden that aspect of my personality."

"That makes me wonder what aspects you _have_ hidden, Mr. AB blood-type." She released his hand and trailed her fingers up his sleeve before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I could show you, if you like." Kyouya dipped his head and kissed the corner of her mouth.

Her voice fell to a whisper. "I thought you didn't want me to kiss you, Kyo-chan."

"You're not kissing me," he whispered back. "I'm kissing you." Then he did kiss her, softer than he had the morning after the storm, but still just as thoroughly. He hated himself for it, a little bit. Kyouya knew Haruhi didn't love him back - not the way he most literally _needed_ her to - but he wanted her to learn to love him, and he was willing to meet her where she was for now. They had time.

Haruhi pressed her forehead against his chest after they pulled apart. "Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to."

She shook her head. "I don't understand what you're trying to gain - what your angle is. As far as I know I'm doing everything you want."

"Precisely," he agreed. "And what I want is to kiss you." Then he did, again, and a moment later he was cursing himself. He knew being around her like this could trigger an episode, and now he could feel the petals fluttering up into his throat. He had to find a way to abscond without offending her. He had to think of something, and he sent up a desperate prayer to any god that would listen while he racked his brain for a solution.

Abruptly, Kyouya's prayers were answered. The office door opened, and Tamaki came in. "Kyouya-kun, I need -" 

Haruhi pulled herself away from him and turned to face the self-styled "king," a blush rising on the back of her neck. "T-Tamaki-senpai!"

Behind her back, Kyouya turned his head to the side and coughed against the back of his hand, expelling the petals just out of her field of view; but, sadly, still in Tamaki's. "I'll handle this," he said to her quietly, and Haruhi took the excuse to flee the room, leaving the two friends alone.

Tamaki's eyes followed her as she walked past him, then snapped back to Kyouya when the door clicked shut behind her. "Kyouya," he said quietly. "What were you doing with Haru-chan?"

His patience must have been much more thin than he realized, because he wiped flower petals from his face and said, _"You_ do not call her 'Haru-chan'."

"You don't object when Hani-senpai does it." Tamaki's voice was oddly detached.

"He isn't attracted to her like that." 

Kyouya glowered at the blond as he took a few steps forward, knelt down, and picked up one of the flower petals, rubbing it between his fingers as he stood. "I never had a chance with her, did I, Kyouya-kun?"

"I gave you a chance," he argued. "I gave you two years, and you squandered them."

"I couldn't!" Tamaki shoved the petal in his pocket and ran a hand through his hair. "High school relationships only have a 2% chance of success!"

"That's why _I_ waited!" Kyouya interjected. "That's a ludicrous gamble."

"I don't know, a 2% chance of success sounds like it's far more likely to succeed than a third son becoming the family patriarch," he said off-handedly, before narrowing his eyes at Kyouya. "It sounds like _exactly_ the kind of gamble you would take."

"I don't gamble with Haruhi," he said.

"Don't you?" Tamaki looked pointedly at the flower petals on the floor, then sighed. "Do you think I could have made her happy?"

Kyouya shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt, more for something to do with his hands than anything else. "I think that's a conversation you should have with her."

* * *

Haruhi flopped down into a chair, her face still burning with shame. It wasn't that she was embarrassed to be seen kissing Kyouya - she had to admit he was good at it - but that she had probably started a fight between him and his best friend. She knew Tamaki carried a torch for her, but she couldn't reciprocate. Not the way he wanted.

She entertained a few of her regulars, told them funny stories to keep their spirits up, but to her surprise, Kimiko reached out and put her hand over Haruhi's. "You don't have to fake being happy for us, you know."

Freezing in place, her eyes darted guiltily between the two girls sitting across from her. "I'm sorry."

Momoka reached out and picked up the teapot in the center of the table, filling Haruhi's cup. It was a fantastic breach of Host Club etiquette, where the princesses were supposed to be pampered, but no one said anything. "Will you tell us what's wrong, Haruhi-kun?"

As a Host, she should blow it off or say no. Refocus the attention on her guests. But as a teenage girl, she was desperate to confide in someone who wasn't as close to the situation as all her other friends. Not for the first time, she wished Mei attended Ouran. But maybe she could tell them, if she spoke in a little bit of code.

Haruhi licked her lips and said, "What do you do, when you like someone, and they _act_ like they like you, but you are pretty sure they're just using you?"

Kimiko giggled. "Kyouya-senpai messed up, didn't he?"

Choking on her tea in shock, Haruhi waved her hands in front of her face. "Ah, hahaha, who said anything about _Kyouya-senpai?"_

The two girls giggled into their tea. "He's always watched you."

Her nervous smile fell. "What?"

"Ever since we were first years," Momoka said, putting one of the little shortbread cookies on Haruhi's saucer. "He's always been in the background, watching you."

Kimiko nodded, "And the way he would always hang back with you when you were nervous… It was so sweet."

Momoka grinned over at Kimiko. "Do you remember Haruhi-kun's first day, when Senpai stood right by his side the whole time, until he was ready to try hosting?"

"I…" Haruhi said, staring back at the office. She swallowed, feeling the blush creep up her neck again. "It still doesn't mean he's not using me."

"He might be," Kimiko agreed, fluffing her short hair with her hands. "I am not one for the cool-type personally, but he seems like he uses everyone."

Picking up her tea, Haruhi said nothing, just took a sip.

"You should date someone else," Momoka said. "Try to find love that makes you feel good. If he's using you, then it won't be worth the work to win you back. If he really does love you, then he'll do anything it takes."

"But…" Haruhi frowned. "Wouldn't that just be hurting him back?"

"All's fair in love and war," Kimiko said over the rim of her teacup. "If he won't play nice with you, you're not obligated to play nice back."

* * *

After the last of the guests had left, while Haruhi was loading the teacups into the dishwasher, Tamaki came into the kitchen and leaned on the counter beside her. "Can I walk you home? I need to talk to you." 

She glanced across the hall to Kyouya, and somehow wasn't surprised to see him watching her. He gave her a short, permissive nod, and she hated herself that she hadn't realized that's what she was looking for.

Swallowing nervously, she looked back at Tamaki. "Okay."

Haruhi grabbed her bag and gave Kyouya a small wave before following her Senpai out the front door. 

Thankfully, Tamaki had never been one for dithering when he _realized_ a conversation needed to be had, and wasn't about to start now. He stretched his arms and folded them behind his head. "So… You're not in love with me at all, are you?"

Lifting a hand to her mouth, she giggled. "No. I'm sorry, Senpai."

He sighed wistfully. "Will you tell me why?"

"You don't love me, you love an idea of me." 

"What are you talking about?" He turned to face her. "I've loved you for years!"

"Have you really?" She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye.

Tamaki sputtered in exasperation. "Yes! Why do you think I was always trying to get you to wear dresses and style your hair and admit you were a girl? I wanted you to be able to be yourself."

"That's exactly what I mean. You were always so focused on my gender expression, you never saw _me."_ Haruhi sighed. "I'm a girl, yes - but not that _kind_ of girl. The person I've been in the Host Club, walking the line between appearing feminine and masculine? That's the closest to my true self I've ever felt. You don't look at me the same way when I'm in a suit that you do when I'm in a dress."

He smiled ruefully. "And Kyouya always has."

Her cheeks colored. "Don't bring him into this."

"I won't bring him into why you don't love me. That's fair." Tamaki turned away, focused on the setting sun. "But can I ask you something about him?"

"I guess."

"When are you two planning to tell everyone you're together?"

"We aren't. Together, I mean," she corrected, trying to ignore the way her shoulders hunched. "He's just pretending to be interested in me because he wants something."

"And you are doing … what, exactly?" He smirked.

"Trying to figure out what he wants."

"Haruhi," Tamaki said quietly. "You have something in your hair." Without waiting for permission, he reached out and touched the hair at the back of her head, then dropped a lavender rose petal in her palm. 

"Huh?" she asked quietly.

Her senpai patted her head. "You're too smart for your own good sometimes, you know that?"

She stopped at the bottom of her stairs. "What do you mean?"

Tamaki grinned. "Kyouya's not that hard to figure out, when you know what you're looking for."


	7. May - Hey, Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The host club is in session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: while in the anime the Beach House belongs to Kyouya's family, in the manga it belongs to Nekozawa's.

Haruhi was pleased to see Music Room #3 bustling again, as the older hosts had come to visit and help the newer hosts with their training. She had abused Kyouya's kindness enough to get him to close the coffee shop so it could happen, and she glanced over occasionally to see him sitting beside Chika, speaking with him on some topic or another. It made her feel strangely safe, to know he took his responsibilities so seriously, as if a weight she hadn't realized she'd been carrying had been lifted off her shoulders.

A sudden burst of whispering overtook the room, and Haruhi looked back at the door, surprised to see Nekozawa-senpai approaching her. He was one of the few Ouran students outside the Host Club who knew her secret, and despite appearances, had always been kind… if more playful than one would expect from such a 'dark prince.'

"Are you my next appointment then, Senpai?" she asked.

"Beelzenef and I have arrived at the appointed hour," he said, sitting on the low couch across from her. 

For some reason, his choice to approach her here, as one of her guests, pleased her. "Let me pull the curtains, then. I want you to be comfortable." Haruhi got up and pulled the ones closest to the table shut, and gave Kaoru a smile of thanks as he got up to get the rest. Hikaru was kind enough to get a folding screen, and help section off their small section of the room. While it wasn't as dark as what he was used to, Nekozawa seemed to relax, and was able to lift his chin enough that she could see his blue eyes.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Please, Haruhi-kun, but don't bother to strain the leaves; they are a window to the future." His voice seemed warmer than she remembered, but she did as asked.

"So, Senpai, what brings you and Beelzenef to _my_ table?" She nodded her thanks to Mori-senpai as he stopped by and set a fresh tray of cookies on the table.

"I have consulted with the dark gods, and they say that a great trial awaits you in the coming months." 

Haruhi tilted her head. "Midterms?"

"Beyond even that," Nekozawa said, and he seemed to be watching her with interest. "You are destined for great things, Haruhi, if you can but muster the courage to face them." 

"I have always wanted to be an attorney like my mother." She smiled at her senpai and offered him the tray. "Cookie?"

He took one, dark chocolate with tiny white-chocolate flecks. "Have you seen the stars outside the city?"

"A few times, but not often." She lifted her teacup and smiled down at it before taking a sip. "I find the night sky puts me at ease."

"Aah, and if I remember, when you visited my beach house, there was a storm." He tilted his head, and she did all she could to push down her memories of that night.

Worse, in their absence came fantasies about what might have happened if she hadn't called Kyouya out - if Tamaki hadn't interrupted them. She was imagining him holding her down on the bed as the storm broke outside, that wicked smile looming over her in the face of her fear of thunder. 

Trying to play off her blush, she waved a hand idly. "It was a lovely time, regardless. Please, you can't control the weather."

"That you know of," Nekozawa teased lightly. "I have a request, if you would humor me?"

"What's that, Senpai?"

"There will be a long weekend, after midterms are finished: the first weekend in June. I would like to invite you to join me at the beach house for the weekend. It might help you relax after the exams, and prepare for the trials ahead."

"A-are you sure, Nekozawa-senpai?" Maybe going to the beach without clients, as Haruhi, would be good for her.

He nodded. "My only request is that you consent to have dinner with me each evening you are there, just the two of us."

"I suppose I could do -" she began, but she felt a hand come down on each of her shoulders.

"Eh, Nekozawa-senpai is inviting the host club to the Beach House again?" Kaoru said from Haruhi's left. 

"You can't take the president and leave the rest of us at home," Hikaru added from her right.

"You guys can't just invite yourselves," Haruhi scolded, but Nekozawa laughed.

"It is fine, Haruhi," he said. "I would love to have all members of the Host Club, both past and present, join us. Though my request that we have dinner alone still stands."

She felt Hikaru's grip on her shoulder tighten, so she reached up and pinched his wrist, lifting it away from her. "I would love to, Senpai. Thank you."

* * *

After Nekozawa's visit, Haruhi had a few more guests, then was freed up to handle some of the club business. She took out the laptop Tamaki had gifted the Host Club on his graduation and pulled up their website, checking the auctions, when, to her surprise, she heard a girlish giggle from the other side of the room. 

Glancing over, she saw that Chika-chan had vanished, and Kyouya was entertaining ladies on his own. In particular, Yuriko was reaching across the tea set, her hand on his arm. "Oh, Kyouya-senpai," she tittered. "It's so good to have you back."

Haruhi schooled her face and snapped her eyes back to the screen. He was just entertaining guests. It's not like it mattered. They weren't dating anyway. 

As she continued scrolling through the auctions, she heard Kyouya say, "Nothing could keep me away from you for long. Why else do you think I opened a coffee shop right outside the gates?"

"Because you're a mercenary bastard who'll use anything and anyone to get what you want," Haruhi mumbled under her breath.

Kyouya and Yuriko laughed. "Oh my," he said, "Perhaps Haruhi-kun is jealous that I've got such a lovely lady to dote on while he has to do paperwork?"

She knew she shouldn't react. The right thing to do would just be to ignore it and let it go. But she couldn't fight the way her head turned slowly toward them, the malevolent look in her eyes that was met, head on, by Kyouya's usual smug detachment. "Do you have something to say, Haruhi?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Oh yes," she agreed. "But not to you."

One of his eyebrows twitched upward as she stood, closing the laptop. "Kaoru? Hikaru?"

The twins appeared at her sides again. "Yes, boss?"

"Are you guys busy tonight?" Her breath was coming fast, and she realized, belatedly, that she was _angry._

"That depends..." Kaoru said, throwing an arm over her shoulders and leaning close to her face.

"... on what you have in mind." Hikaru finished, twining his arm with Kaoru's around her, and leaning close on her other side. 

"Well, with this beach trip coming up so soon after midterms," she said, not taking her eyes off Kyouya, "I realized I won't have time to shop closer to the trip. My budget isn't big, but maybe you could help me pick a nice swimsuit, at least?" Haruhi watched him reach into an inner pocket for his wallet, and the corner of her mouth twisted up into a vicious smile. "Something that shows off my body?"

The girls in the room all squealed in delight, but Kyouya's face fell, and his lips parted, she watched his eyes flick down momentarily to the body in question, then back up to her face, before her view was blocked by the twins.

"We'll make you a deal, Haruhi," they said in perfect unison. "You let us pick your _whole_ wardrobe, for the _whole_ trip, and we'll pay for the _whole_ thing."

She held up her hands. "O-only if it's clothes I'll actually wear. I don't want to spend the trip miserable." 

The twins both started chuckling, and grabbed Haruhi's arms. "Tamaki-senpai!" they called.

Tamaki waved one hand dismissively from where he sat with Isao. "We'll handle closing things up here. You three go have fun."

As soon as the door shut behind the trio of third-years, the one-time Host Club King turned to Kyouya. "You're really in for it now," he said.

"I don't know," Kyouya replied, passing Yuriko back her calculus homework he'd been doing under the table. "I think I'm getting exactly what I was looking for."

* * *

Haruhi bit her lip as the limo pulled up outside the Hitachiin estate, already regretting her hasty decision. She had never known the twins to be fond of _restraint_ when it came to what they suggested she wear. But just as she was trying to find the words to ask them to take her home, she remembered the sight of Yuriko's elegant fingers on Kyouya's arm, and the sound of his voice, saying sweet things to the other girl. That was all she needed to spur her out of the vehicle and up the steps into the manor.

"Is our studio set up?" Hikaru asked the maid that came to collect their school bags. 

"Yes," she replied. "We received your text."

It had been Kaoru that texted, but neither twin seemed interested in stirring up trouble with their household staff. Instead, they just grabbed Haruhi and sprinted up the stairs, laughing maniacally. They pulled her into their studio, which was really a room the size of her apartment, with multiple closets.

"Hmm… grab those swimsuits out," Kaoru said, eyeing Haruhi up and down. "Let's start with seeing those on her so we can get a better idea of her figure."

"I… what?" Haruhi asked. 

"We need to see what your figure actually looks like to decide how best to show it off," Hikaru called from a closet, his voice accompanied by the rattling of coat hangers on racks. He came back out with three swimsuits. "Here, Haruhi. Try these on, and call us back in when you're wearing whichever one you like best." "Uh… okay…" she said, chewing her lip as the twins left the room. 

She stripped down to her panties, trying on the swimsuits one at a time, until she discovered an unpleasant problem: _none_ of them fit once she took off the binder she wore to school to hide certain "developments" that had occurred in the last year. With a defeated sigh she left all three on the chair, then got dressed again and opened the door. 

Hikaru frowned. "What's up?"

"None of them fit in the top once I took off my binder, and I didn't bring a bra," she explained, then blushed. "I don't _own_ a normal bra. I need to go get one. Can we do this another -"

In unison, both twins shouted, " _MOM!"_

Haruhi had met the twins' mother, Hitachiin Yuzuha, once or twice before, when she had come to the school for this event or that - but every time before she had been just "one of the twins' friends." 

Now the woman was staring Haruhi down, a calculating look on her face while the twins were back in the hall. "So, let me see if I understand what's going on," she said, taking a seat on a stool and crossing one leg over the other. "You're going on a beach trip with the Host Club in a couple of weeks, and you've suddenly decided you need a whole new wardrobe."

Blushing deeply, Haruhi nodded. "Yes, Hitachiin-sama."

"Please," the older woman waved her hand. "Call me Yuzuha." She glanced at the three swimsuits draped across the chair. "And none of those fit because you wear a binder, that you _don't_ want to wear for this trip, but you don't own a normal bra."

"No, Hi-" Haruhi coughed. "Yuzuha-san."

Yuzuha chuckled and bounced her leg. "So, what's his name, Haruhi?"

"Huh?" she squeaked. "I don't know what you mean?" Her voice sounded timid and high-pitched to her own ears.

"There's no judgement here, don't worry," Yuzuha said, grinning mischievously. "But you have spent the last two years perfectly content to be seen as a boy by everyone around you, to the point that you bought yourself binders and have avoided having your body revealed in any way except with your closest friends. Now, suddenly, you're going on a beach trip and want a wardrobe that shows off feminine assets you like to pretend you don't have to the point that a seventeen year-old girl doesn't own a _bra?"_ She laughs. "I just want to know which of your friends you're trying to attract, and if the plan is to seduce or torture him."

Haruhi swallowed nervously. She didn't have her own mother to ask for advice with this, and like she'd realized with Kimiko and Momoka, she needed people outside the situation to rely on. Why _not_ Yuzuha-san?

Taking in a deep breath, she said, "Ootori Kyouya, and _both."_

Yuzuha grinned. "I always knew you were a smart girl, Haruhi. Now, let's get you measured properly."

* * *

It was almost nine when Haruhi's bedroom light finally came on, and Kyouya called her immediately.

"What are you doing?" he asked her as soon as he heard her voice. 

"Figuring out what I want for dinner. Dad's on the phone and said he already ate, so I'm on my own."

"I made udon. Do you want me to bring you some?" Though he wouldn't admit it, while he enjoyed making her jealous, he had not liked walking back to his apartment alone. It felt wrong.

"It's late, Kyouya, and I know you have a hard time getting up as it is." He saw a dark shape appear in her window, and felt instantly calm.

"I missed walking home with you."

"I'm sure Yuriko would have loved to walk you home," she groused.

He got up from his desk and went into the kitchen. "You're jealous," he teased, not even trying to hide the grin from his voice.

"Why would I be jealous?" Haruhi was trying to sound uninterested, but the pitch of her voice elevated slightly. 

"Because you miss having me to yourself." He pulled a couple of tupperware containers out of the cabinet and started portioning out enough udon for two. He filled one container with the broth and vegetables, and the other with the thick noodles. Couldn't let them get soggy before she got to enjoy them.

"Why would I care about that?"

Kyouya smirked. "Why did you run off with the twins, then, Haruhi?"

"Well, Nekozawa-senpai invited me to his beach house after midterms, and my old swimsuit needs to be replaced, so, I thought I would ask for help."

He snapped the lid on both containers. "Well, I'll be over in about fifteen minutes. I want to see it."

"I don't have it. Yuzuha-san wanted to make some adjustments. You'll get to see it when everyone else does." 

"Then wear something else cute for me, I'll see you soon," he whispered before hanging up.

* * *

What was she doing? What was she _doing?_

Haruhi stared at her phone in her hand after Kyouya had hung up. He had asked her to wear something cute. It was ten till nine and he was heading over with dinner for her and asked her to wear something cute. _Ootori Kyouya_ had asked her to wear something cute.

Forget him, she wasn't going to wear something cute, she was going to wear something _sexy._ Haruhi dug through her closet, looking for the clothes her dad had purchased her. She tossed aside frilly dresses and fluffy jumpers for the nightclothes. Specifically, a silk nightgown her father had given her. If Kyouya was going to be an ass and insist on coming over this late, he could suffer for it.

After tugging it on over her head, Haruhi slipped into the bathroom and started rattling around through her dad's make up. She didn't want anything too heavy, but she wanted Kyouya to be -

She stood in the bathroom as the awful truth settled over her, a realization she felt like she should have had earlier.

She wanted Kyouya to be stunned.

She wanted Kyouya to be wrapped around her little finger.

She wanted Kyouya to be so involved with her he didn't even notice Yuriko, or any of his other regulars.

"Oh, Mom," she mumbled, pressing her forehead against the mirror. "I want Kyouya."

 _"Do_ you?" Her father's voice made Haruhi jump, and she had to grab the towel rack to keep from stumbling back into the tub.

* * *

Kyouya rounded the fence to head up to Haruhi's apartment and was surprised to see Ranka-san descending the stairs. "Oh, Kyouya-kun," he said, tossing the end of his scarf over his shoulder. "How are things going?"

"Not bad," he shrugged, and held up the tupperware he brought. "Haruhi said she hadn't eaten dinner yet." Kyouya smiled politely. "You're dressed up. Heading out?"

"Yes, emergency work meeting." Ranka sighed. "Then I'm going to pick up a shift so I won't be back till morning." There was something pointed in his tone, that he followed with words only once he'd reached the sidewalk. "You know I support you pursuing her, but don't forget, _she_ is my priority, not you. If you hurt her, I will find a way to make you pay for it, if it's the last thing I do."

"You know that I have no intention of hurting Haruhi. I'm the one with _Hanahaki,_ my love isn't the one in question."

"Just because you love her, does not mean you won't hurt her." He sighed. "Have a good evening, Kyouya."

"You too, Ranka-san."

Kyouya waited until Haruhi's father had vanished from sight, then climbed the stairs and rapped on the door with his free hand. 

"Coming!" Haruhi's familiar voice called from within the apartment, and he heard her fumbling with the lock on the door. 

As she opened it, he held up the tupperware. "I brought u… don…" Kyouya completely lost track of the sentence when he saw her wearing a skimpy silk nightgown that left absolutely nothing to his imagination, and he viscerally remembered that he was a hormonal teenage boy.

Closing his eyes, he bit down on the inside of his cheek to help him get control of his emotions. There was a very loud, screaming part of him that wanted to drop the udon so he could put his hands on her. His imagination was already running wild with all the things he wanted to do, both to and with her, but he knew if he indulged himself she'd think less of him. 

At least he could comfort himself with the knowledge that he had definitely made her jealous.

* * *

Kyouya was kissing her again. Soft, tender kisses while his fingers stroked her back through her nightgown. She was forced to admit she liked it, that she wanted more than this, but she certainly wasn't going to tell him that now. 

Haruhi knew Kyouya was using her, and she hated him a little bit for it. But, if everything went according to plan, she could get her own tiny piece of revenge at the beach house.


	8. June - Call me out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Host Club returns to Nekozawa's beach house!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go with the manga on this one, where the beach house belongs to Nekozawa-senpai, not the Ootori family.

Ootori Kyouya liked to believe himself a man of few regrets. He regretted that he was not closer to his family, but knew there was little he could do to change that until he was patriarch; his father's distance was infectious and would have to be mended. He regretted focusing on painting rather than a musical instrument; paintings took longer to complete than a piece of music, but then again they were more permanent, so it was only a distant regret, like having chosen pasta rather than sushi. But he had never regretted anything _quite_ like he regretted choosing to take the twins' limo to the beach with Haruhi, rather than insisting they take a separate car by themselves. 

Yuzuha-san had outdone herself, and Kyouya hated her a little bit for it. Rather than her usual shapeless looks, Haruhi was dressed like… well… 

"What?" Haruhi asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Hmm?" He ground petals between his molars, trying to choke them back down without anyone noticing. 

"You're staring at me."

Kyouya swallowed, and masked it with a cough. "So are the twins."

Her face fell, and he watched as she pulled the chiffon dolman tighter around her chest, and she looked at the two ingrates who were currently the only things keeping his hands off of her. "Do I look that bad?"

One of them laughed. _"'Bad'_ is not the term I'd use, Haruhi."

"Then what would you call it, Kaoru?"

_Kaoru,_ Kyouya reminded himself, _the one in red is Kaoru._

However, it was Hikaru who replied, "You look pretty."

"That's the understatement of the century." Kyouya cursed himself for speaking the second the words were out of his mouth.

Haruhi giggled. "I'm glad you guys approve."

Grabbing drinks from the mini-fridge, Kaoru held one out to Haruhi as he said, "Still, I don't get why you suddenly wanted to dress like that. You've always been pretty adamant on the whole androgyny front when it came to your clothes."

"Mei's been telling me I should get in touch with my feminine side, and while I still prefer my usual look, as an attorney I will be expected to present as female to a certain extent. I'd rather get comfortable with it now than wait until I've lost opportunities because of it." She took the drink - a bottle of water - and drank it. He couldn't help but be transfixed by the way her throat moved as she swallowed.

Kyouya really needed to get out of this vehicle.

* * *

Haruhi smiled politely at Kadomatsu, Nekozawa-senpai's butler, as he opened the door and admitted her into the palatial mansion that the others called a 'beach house.' Even after two years of running around with her _ridiculously_ wealthy classmates, she still wasn't used to cavernous homes where everyone echoed at each other. She felt she much preferred the small cosiness of an apartment, and was shocked to realize the one that came to mind wasn't the home she'd grown up in, but Kyouya's.

Almost as soon as she stepped into a foyer, a high-pitched giggle proceeded footsteps rattling down the stairs, and the cry of "The Reverse Harem is here!" was the only other warning she received before Kirimi launched herself into Tamaki's arms. 

While Kirimi began to tell Tamaki all about how her big brother had said they were coming, the older Nekozawa descended the stairs and approached Haruhi. "I must thank you again for accepting my invitation, Haruhi-kun."

"Please, it was just a delight to be asked, Nekozawa-senpai." 

He reached out toward her, and this was when she realized he had left Beelzenef somewhere else. "Enough of that nonsense. We're friends, aren't we? You must call me Umehito." As he took one of her hands in both of his, she was suddenly aware of how warm they were, and how gently he touched her.

"A-allright, Umehito."

His smile was brilliant, even beneath the robe and the wig. "Dinner will be at eight, in the library, if you're still willing?"

She was blushing. When had she started blushing? "Oh, that sounds lovely. What will you be doing until then?"

"Oh, the usual. Practicing the dark arts, cursing my enemies, sacrificing virgins to dark gods."

"Is that why you brought me here?" she laughed. "To sacrifice me to dark gods?"

"Oh, Haruhi," Umehito whispered, turning her hand over and stroking the inside of her wrist with his thumb. _"Your_ virginity is far too precious a gift to waste on something as paltry as a god."

"Which rooms will we be using?" Kyouya interrupted, his voice unusually loud. "We need to get our luggage put away."

"Of course." Nekozawa-senpai released her hand, leaving her suddenly cold. "Kodomatsu and Kuretake will show you to your rooms. I will be in the library, if you should require anything." He turned back to her, and she was suddenly riveted by how blue his eyes were. "You are, of course, welcome to join me any time, not just dinner."

"Thank you," Haruhi said. "I think I will."

* * *

"You can talk to me, you know?" Haruhi said from her perch in one of the library's big bay windows, enjoying the sun and ocean views while she read. She had noticed Umehito creeping closer, watching her from the shadows, from the gaps in the bookshelves. "I don't bite."

"More's the pity," he said lightly, coming around the corner of the nearest shelf but staying well away from the spray of light across the floor. "If you did it might be more fun."

She giggled and set her book down. "I suppose I could be convinced to, if you asked me nicely."

His answering laugh was rich, and he leaned on the bookshelf. "May I ask you something, Haruhi?" When she nodded, he continued. "Why did you accept my invitation?"

"Why did you ask me?" Pushing herself to her feet, she left the book on the windowsill and took a few steps toward him, without leaving the patch of sunlight.

He seemed to spend the next few moments in thought, then to her surprise pushed the cowl off his head and removed his wig. Haruhi had forgotten how handsome he was beneath all the shrouds. "I think…" Umehito said nervously, before straightening up from his customary hunch. "I think this is a conversation I would like to have without pretensions, if you don't mind."

* * *

"What are they doing?" Hikaru asked from Kyouya's shoulder.

He squinted through the binoculars, irritated that he couldn't use them as well with his glasses. He should have brought his contacts. "It looks like they're talking."

"Talking?" his companion replied.

"Yes," Kyouya said irritably. "Now they -" He froze, watching as Nekozawa-senpai removed his hood and wig and Haruhi took another step toward him. "He took off his robes."

_"Did he strip in front of Haruhi?"_ Kaoru asked from his other side, then reached for the binoculars.

Kyouya jerked back, a look of cold fury on his face, then handed them over before he scowled, getting up from his hiding spot on the beach and storming back into the house.

* * *

"You know what it's like to be different from the rest of them," Umehito said quietly. "I have only been a pretender to the world of Japanese aristocracy. My money and my family name are enough to grant me entrance, but I deal with it more for Kirimi's sake than my own."

Haruhi smiled. "You love your sister very much."

"She's the only family I have, so we are exceptionally close," he said. "You know what that's like too, don't you?"

Thinking of her father, she nodded. "I do."

"I will not claim to be able to offer you as much as someone like Tamaki or Mitsukuni." Umehito's hand was outstretched toward her, and she took it, letting him pull her to the very edge of the patch of sunlight. "I am blessed by wealth, which means all my madness is rebranded as eccentricity and thus socially acceptable. Being with me would take adjustment, on both our parts, but I…" His eyes were searching her face. "I would be good to you, Haruhi."

"You have me here all weekend," she murmured, tugging his hand until he came up to the very edge of the shadows. "Why don't you show me?"

His smile was as beautiful as the rest of him. "Forgive me for being forward then, Haru-chan," he breathed, then kissed her.

Umehito's kisses were nothing like Kyouya's. He was slow and methodical about it, holding her close and enjoying each progressing stage of the kiss to its fullest before moving on to the next. It was simultaneously frustrating and exhilarating, because while she enjoyed being savored like this, she found his pace irritatingly slow compared to Kyouya, who always kissed her like he was never going to get to taste her again. 

Guilt washed over her at the thought of him, and she pulled away, lifting one hand to her lips.

"Haruhi, I -"

The door behind her opened, and she turned to find Kyouya staring at them both with a look of resigned disappointment - as if he had hoped for better from her, but was not surprised. "Don't mind me," he said flatly. "I was just bored and hoping to see if there was anything worthwhile in the library." The corner of his mouth lifted in a slight sneer. "Apparently not."

"Kyouya," she said, but he waved a hand as he turned to leave.

"I'm heading out to the beach. I'm sure I'll see you sometime soon, Fujioka."

His use of her family name stung more than the rest of his antics, and she balled her hands into her fists. Fine. Let him be like that.

"I'm sorry," Umehito said after he had left. "I didn't realize the two of you were in a relationship."

"We're not," she said, and suddenly felt tired. "We've danced around it for a while, but he still hasn't confessed. He hasn't said a lot of things I think he should, before we're in a relationship."

"Is my pursuit of you unwelcome then?"

"That depends." Haruhi turned back to face him. "Are you planning to confess?"

"Not yet," he said. "I want to spend some time dating you first, to see if we're a good match." His eyes flicked back toward the door. "It doesn't have to be anything exclusive, until then."

"All right then." She nodded. "I'm game if you are."

* * *

Kyouya was leaning against the wall, hidden from view, when he heard Haruhi open the door to her room. She had stayed in the library with their senpai all day, and he wanted to have this conversation now, and get it over with. The idea that she might fall for _Nekozawa_ of all people? The man was eccentric! She would spend her life seeing to the more mundane needs of their family while he frittered away his time in dark rooms and babbling nonsense spells. He would not be there to help or support her. Not like Kyouya would.

As her soft footsteps padded past he reached out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her to face him. Haruhi let out a little shriek, then relaxed when she recognized him in the moonlight coming through the windows. "Kyouya."

Pushing his glasses up his nose with his free hand, he asked, "What do you think you're doing?"

"I was going to head to bed." Why was her voice so calm? "I think a better question is, what are you doing in my room, Kyo-chan?"

"Answer my question, Haruhi: What do you think you're doing with Nekozawa?"

"Umehito-kun?" She giggled. "Dating him, of course."

"Like hell you are." Kyouya tugged her closer by her wrist and glared down at her. "You're going to break things off with him first thing in the morning."

Her giggling bloomed into full on laughter. "Why would I do that?"

"Because-" he realized he was coming close to shouting, so he took a steadying breath and lowered his voice. "Because I asked you to."

Haruhi's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Now who's jealous?" 

Anger dug into him like frigid thorns, and Kyouya pushed her back onto the bed and climbed on top of her, pinning her in place. Memories of that night two years ago rattled in his chest; he'd been just as angry then, that Haruhi had given no thought to the very specific type of danger she had been in with those boys. This time his anger felt more petulant, and more personal. "Well, Haruhi?" he whispered. "Call me out. Tell me I won't do it."

Two years ago, she had lain perfectly still beneath him, all smiles as she cut him to the quick. Now, instead, there was no smile on her face; just something hot flickering in her eyes as her arms wrapped around his neck and she whispered, "But I want you to."

All his rage gave way to hunger as he kissed her, twisting the sheet up in his hands. He used one knee to pry her legs apart so he could settle between them, then pulled his shirt off over his head at her insistent tugging. "Haru-chan," he whispered, brushing her bangs out of her face. "Are you sure?"

"I want it, but I don't have…" a blush ghosted over her cheeks. "I don't have any contraceptives."

Unable to help himself, Kyouya laughed. He kissed her cheek, then down to her neck, and whispered, "Then we can save that for later. There are so many other ways we can enjoy each other right now."

Haruhi turned her head to one side and lifted her chin, a wordless invitation he gladly accepted with eager kisses and nips that made her breath come faster until he found her collarbone and she gasped. "H-have you…" She swallowed, and he let go of her wrist to move his hand to her thigh. "Have you done this kind of thing before?"

"No," he confessed, using his other arm to lift himself up so he could look in her face. "Have you?"

She shook her head and giggled. "Who would I have -"

"Arai-kun," he said, drawing roses beneath the hem of her dress with his fingertips. "You may have rejected him, but I will admit to being jealous that he's known you longer than I have."

"Kyo-chan," Haruhi whispered, brushing her nose against his as she wrapped her legs around him. "Stop talking."

* * *

Haruhi stared breathlessly at the ceiling of her room, every inch of her skin tingling. Kyouya was beside her, breathing heavily, his hand gripping hers tightly. "What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.

"I'm wondering why you haven't confessed yet." 

Silence filled the room, and for a moment she thought she'd gone too far, found the button that pushed Kyouya away at last. Instead, he rolled toward her, pulling her back into his embrace. Haruhi let herself melt into him and closed her eyes.

When she thought maybe he had fallen asleep, he said, "I refuse to gamble with you, or our future together, Haruhi. I'm not going to confess until I'm sure my feelings will be returned and I know this isn't temporary."

"Our future together," she laughed drily. "What future? You're going to make the coffee shop a success and then your father will welcome you back to the family and you'll forget any of this ever -"

His grip on her tightened. _"No."_ He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "Nothing could ever make me forget this. Besides, if I win my father's approval, I get to keep you."

She felt all the blood drain from her face. "W-what?"

"I should have told you sooner," he said, pulling the blanket up around them both. "My father disowned me because I told him I intended to pursue you. The bargain we reached is that if I can make the coffee shop a success, and prove I don't need the connections an arranged marriage would provide, then he will not object to me marrying you."

"Marriage?" She heard the high pitch of anxiety in her voice. "Kyouya, I'm seventeen."

"Yes," he agreed. "But I don't have the luxury of time. I'm my father's youngest child, and while he hasn't chosen an heir yet, he is getting on in years. He'll probably retire in the next decade, and I would like the fight over my marriage to be over, done with, and long-cooled before he makes such a decision."

Haruhi let him pull her head against his chest, and let her eyes slide shut, enjoying the lullaby of his heartbeat. "What happens if the cafe fails?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." He sighed. "For now, you're going to end things with Umehito. And if anyone else asks you out, you're going to turn them down."

"No." She even surprised herself, with how calm her voice was. "You have said you're not ready to confess, and that's fine. But I deserve to find happiness, too. I deserve to be loved right now, as I am, not on _your_ schedule or timetable. So until you're ready to confess, you can deal with me dating whomever I want."

She could feel him scowling in her hair before he sighed. "Fine, if you must. I suppose I've earned it."

"You did spend the last two years telling me I wasn't good enough for you. But I'm willing to let you prove how sorry you are."

"Haru-chan." He caught her chin with his finger and tilted her face up toward his. "I will spend the rest of my life proving that you are far too good for _me,_ if only you will give me half a chance."

* * *

Kyouya woke to the sound of the door opening, and Tamaki's soft voice. "Kyouya-kun?"

He felt a sudden moment of panic that subsided quickly when he realized Haruhi was well hidden beneath the blankets. So long as he didn't get out of bed no one would know they had been together. Turning a baleful eye toward Tamaki, he growled, "What?"

"No one can find Haruhi," he said, frowning with concern. "Do you know where she went?"

"She's probably taking a walk on the beach or something," he growled. "Go away."

"Fine, fine, we'll go look for her outside." Tamaki waved a hand dismissively and left, pulling the door shut behind him. In the hallway, he grinned down at Hani-senpai. "How long until he realizes that we just found him in Haruhi's room?"


	9. June - Allez!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyouya and Nekozawa settle things between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's a Nekozawa chapter without drama?

Waking up next to Haruhi had been _delightful,_ as always, and he spent the time after Tamaki had woken him doing exactly what he had dreamed of for so long - burying his face into her skin and dozing there. Lingering on the edge of consciousness and listening to her breathe made it easier to forget what he was going to have to do once they got up - go back to pretending he wasn't hopelessly enamored of her and solve this Nekozawa problem once and for all.

"Kyouya?" her voice was thick with drowsiness, and he had to admit he was devilishly pleased to be the reason she had needed to sleep until near-noon.

"I'm here," he whispered, squeezing her gently.

She snuggled closer against him and didn't open her eyes. "What time is it?"

Glancing at the digital clock behind her head, he squinted until the numbers were more legible. "Quarter till."

Her giggle floated up from beneath the comforter. "Quarter till what?"

"Noon."

She squeaked and sat up, leaving him cold and missing both her and the blanket she took with her. "I never sleep this late!"

"Wonderful, isn't it?" he mumbled, fumbling on the bedside table for his glasses.

When he put them on, Haruhi was trying and failing to scowl at him around her smile. Finally, she gave up and said, "You're a bad influence."

Sitting up as well, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the back of her neck. "Almost certainly."

"Well," Haruhi murmured, leaning back against him. "I suppose if I have to be corrupted, it might as well be by the best."

Kyouya invested the next few minutes in being close to her, feeling Haruhi real and solid in his arms like he'd only imagined over the last two years. He could feel the words "I love you" rattling in his mouth, but he knew once he said them to her directly, they would change everything. No matter what he did, afterward, he wouldn't be able to go back. Loving her was vastly different than wanting or needing her.

A small part of him hated her as well, for what she made of him. Before Haruhi, he had been so sure of his plan and his path; he was going to impress his father and be named his heir. He was going to be the most ruthless business magnate in Japan. People would hear the name "Ootori" and feel genuine fear. 

Then that April afternoon she had stumbled into the music room and been a puzzle he couldn't quite solve - an enigma with no easy solution. Haruhi saw right through him, again and again. She had taken his fearsome reputation and made it a bulwark against the more elitist students at Ouran; she had found shelter in his cruelty, realizing from the first he didn't really have the heart to turn it on her.

Maybe he should have told his father and gotten the surgery immediately. That certainly would have been what the 'Shadow King' would do, but it was too late for that now - now that he had told her he intended to marry her, now that he had _all but_ confessed. 

"Kyo-chan," she whispered. "What are you thinking?"

He closed his eyes and exhaled behind her back, hoping she wouldn't notice the petals that fell from his lips. "I'm thinking I have a lot to do."

"Like talking to my father?"

Kyouya caught her implication: she would expect him to court her with the same respect and gravity that he would have given an arranged marriage. On this, at least, they were in agreement. He would not start his life with her out on the wrong foot.

"I already have," he murmured into her shoulder blade. "That first morning I came over for breakfast."

Haruhi laughed. "I wondered what you two were up to." She shifted slightly, so she was facing him. "What did he say?"

"That he approved of me, but you were his priority, and if I hurt you, he'd make me pay for it." He was about to say something more, but she leaned close and kissed him, making him forget whatever it was he would have followed with. 

"I should get up and do _something."_ She climbed out of bed and stretched her legs. "If I spend all day in bed, I won't be able to sleep tonight."

Falling back on the bed he let his eyes travel over her body. "Would that be such a bad thing?" He was rewarded for his insinuation with a pillow to the face. "These glasses cost 75000 yen."

"Gonna add that to my debt?"

"Unless you can think of another way to pay," Kyouya teased her, but he still got up. "Let me make sure the coast is clear so you can sneak back to your…" He froze. "Wait. This is _your_ room."

"Yes…?" she said slowly, raising an eyebrow. 

He pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed. "I'm going to kill that idiot."

* * *

The library door creaked as Kyouya pushed it open, and he let it close before he spoke. "Nekozawa-senpai, I would like to have a word with you."

"Ah, Ootori-kun," his voice answered from within the stacks. "I wondered when you would come."

"I'd prefer to meet face to face, if you don't mind."

As if in answer, Beelzenef appeared from behind one of the shelves, beckoning him forward. Kyouya groaned under his breath and headed that way, but was still thankful that Nekozawa wasn't going to drag this out more than he suspected the meeting itself would go.

When he rounded the shelf at last, he found the man shrouded in his cowl, seated at a table. The only light in the alcove was from the candelabra sitting next to him. "Please," Nekozawa said, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Have a seat."

Kyouya pulled the chair out and sat down, doing his best to keep his face impassive. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

"The stars foretold our meeting. I saw no reason to struggle futilely against this fate." Nekozawa leaned on his free hand while Beelzenef rubbed his hands together.

"Very well, let's get down to business: What will it take for you to relinquish your claim on Fujioka Haruhi?" 

"You have been disowned by the Ootori family. I daresay there is nothing you can offer me." The 'dark prince' smiled, and Kyouya bit his tongue against his trump card. He could only play it once. "But I am willing to hear your offer."

After nudging his glasses up slightly with two fingers, he folded his hands on the table. "I am not a fool, Nekozawa. I know the one who makes the first offer in any negotiation is starting from the weaker position. I also know that if you had nothing to gain from this conversation you would not have entertained it; ergo, I have something you want."

They stared at each other across the table in silence, neither one breaking the gaze as Nekozawa lifted one hand to his face and opened his mouth, pulling out a single, buttery-yellow rose petal. 

Kyouya stared at it, the offending article fraying at the edges of his self-control. 

"Yellow roses," Nekozawa whispered, "are complex. They symbolize intense, undying love, but also betrayal, broken hearts, and jealousy." He set Beelzenef down, and gestured to the petal. "You must understand, it's a matter of life and death."

Reaching into his own mouth, Kyouya caught the edge of a petal in the back of his throat, and set it beside Nekozawa's, the pale lavender almost ghostly in the candlelight. "Lavender roses mean love at first sight," he replied. "I understand completely."

"It seems there is to be no quarter, then," Nekozawa smiled. "We will have to settle this like gentlemen."

He could only imagine what that phrase meant to someone like the previous president of the Black Magic Club, but he couldn't back down. "What do you have in mind?"

* * *

Haruhi woke bright and early the next morning, strangely eager for the day. At dinner the night before, Umehito had asked if she would mind taking Kirimi to the Tauebayashi Matsuri, as she had never attended one. It was a strange favor to ask, and would keep her out of the manor most of the day, but she knew how important Kirimi was to him, so she had agreed.

The only strange, discordant note had been Kyouya. He had been waiting outside her room when she'd returned after dinner, but he had only kissed her once before vanishing into Tamaki's room to "talk business."

To her surprise, Tamaki was waiting for her when she went to the dining room for breakfast, insisting that he would join the two girls for the festival. Kirimi didn't mind, but the whole thing seemed strange.

It was well past noon when Kirimi finally climbed into Tamaki's arms and fell asleep with her head on his shoulder. There would be more festive events that evening, and Haruhi was already considering seeing if someone would like to come with her to see the fireworks after dinner when Tamaki turned to her. "Do you trust me, Haruhi?"

She laughed. "Of course I do, Tamaki-senpai."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Kyouya is doing something very stupid, and I know he will not stop unless you stop him."

"W-what?" she asked, taken aback.

"I have been asked to keep you distracted today, but… back in the manor, the left hallway from the main entrance, second pair of double doors. If you run, you can prevent a tragedy."

Haruhi stared at Tamaki, trying to make sense of his words, but he shook his head. "Neither Nekozawa-senpai nor Kyouya know when to stop where you are concerned."

She turned on her heel and raced back to the Beach House as fast as she could.

* * *

Kyouya looked down at the foils on the table, frowning slightly.

"Nothing to your liking, Ootori-kun?" Nekozawa asked, tightening the cuff on his fencing jacket.

He shrugged. "I had thought this was going to be an actual bout, with live steel. I was under the impression we were _both_ willing to die for her."

Nekozawa licked his teeth at the subtle challenge. "If that's the game you want to play, then fair enough. Kadomatsu?" His butler bowed and vanished behind a side door while he put a hand on his hip. "First blood then?"

"Concession," Kyouya corrected.

"Out for blood, then?"

"At the moment, you are the most immediate obstacle between Haruhi and I. I will do what I must." He picked up the gloves and pulled them on, buttoning them at his wrists. 

"Well," Nekozawa replied when Kadomatsu returned with a wooden case. "What hospital would you like me to have you taken to when this is done?"

"Any managed by the Ootori Group. I'll give you the same courtesy, of course. We'll cover the expense of your surgery as well." Kyouya glanced at the rapiers in the case Kadomatsu opened for him and plucked one up before moving to the center of the room.

"No mask?" The other man smirked and took his position. "You are quite confident in this little wager."

"A difference between you and I, Nekozawa: I don't gamble where Haruhi's concerned."

They nodded to each other, then Kadomatsu called out, "En Garde!"

In middle school at Ouran, the boys' gym classes always did a fencing unit. While Kyouya had done well enough to not shame the Ootori name, he had never excelled - not like Nekozawa had. But he still remembered the forms and protocols, and dropped down into the proper stance as he had been taught. Across from him, his Senpai did the same, the low light from the candles at the edges of the room casting him in sinister shadows.

In unison, they lifted their rapiers in front of their faces to salute each other - just because this was about to get bloody didn't mean they had to be rude. "Prêts!" Kadomatsu shouted, and they both lowered their weapons into the starting stance.

The last call, "Allez!" was still ringing in Kyouya's ears when Nekozawa lunged for him. He took an involuntary step back and brought his weapon up to parry the attempt, then pushed the advantage with an attempted strike of his own. But the other man was fast, catching the blade on his own and advancing until the hilts clashed together, and they were face to face.

"You know you're outmatched," Nekozawa said. 

"Maybe at fencing," he demurred, "but this isn't over yet." Using the force of a lunge, Kyouya pushed Nekozawa off of him and readied his weapon again, then advanced across the floor with quick, light steps.

They exchanged a series of attacks, all blocked, the two rapiers singing in the air between them. "Why, Kyouya-kun," Nekozawa chuckled, "I didn't realize you were such a good dancer. Perhaps I'll let you take Haruhi for a turn about the floor at our wedding."

He had been too focused on the rote patterns he had learned in middle school to recognize the obfuscation until it was too late; Nekozawa had switched the positions of his feet and used it to his advantage, spinning in place to bring his rapier around and cut Kyouya at the shoulder. "Blood for the blood god," Nekozawa whispered.

Whatever friendly rivalry the two men had pretended was gone, and Nekozawa stopped toying with him. The next few clashes ended with a series of light, quick lashes, and the occultist laughed. "What was that old punishment? Death by a thousand cuts?" He lowered his sword at Kyouya again. "Concede."

Wiping blood from his mouth, Kyouya replied, "Never."

* * *

Haruhi burst through the front door of the manor, already out of breath, then bolted for the left hallway. She ignored the cries of her friends until she heard a heavy thud and glanced over her shoulder to find Mori-senpai running after her. 

"I have to stop them!" she gasped, and skidded to a stop outside the second set of double doors. She launched herself into the doors, but they were locked and solidly built, and Haruhi was reminded that she was just a slight teenage girl, not a battering ram.

But thank the gods for Mori. Seeing what she was trying to do, he stepped back to the far wall and rushed the doors, slamming his shoulder into them with a loud bang. The answering sound of metal skittering across the floor was the mechanics of the lock, but she ignored it, rushing through the way he had opened and into the candlelit sparring room.

The sight of Kyouya bleeding all over while Nekozawa didn't have a scratch on him sent her into a rage, and without thinking she darted between the two of them as they lifted their swords again. "Enough!" she shouted. "That is _enough_ from _both of you!"_ She moved toward Kyouya, pushing his shaky sword arm aside and rubbing her thumb over the scrape on his cheek.

"We need a first aid kit," she snapped. "And I want to go home. Now."

With that, she stood, and glared at the rest of the Host Club, who were standing in the doorway, staring in shock. "Make sure Nekozawa-senpai doesn't attack him again."

"Haruhi -" Umehito began, but she cut him off with a shake of her head.

"I don't care about your excuses. I don't even care if it was his idea. I don't give a damn what you have to say right now, Umehito. You hurt Kyouya." Then she stormed out of the room. 

Nekozawa looked down at the rapier in his hand and tossed it aside, then took a few steps toward Kyouya, offering his hand and helping him up. "Intense, undying love, betrayal, and heartbreak," he murmured. "I knew you were a mercenary asshole, Ootori Kyouya, but you far exceeded my expectations." He paused. "You knew she was going to interrupt us, didn't you?"

"Like I told you," he replied affably. "I don't gamble where Haruhi is concerned."

* * *

"Haruhi, I can -"

"Shut up." 

Kyouya lapsed back into silence, allowing her to continue cleaning and bandaging his cuts as they rode back home in Tamaki's limo, while he remained with the others to enjoy the rest of their weekend. Haruhi was furious - more so than he'd ever seen her - but her touch as she dabbed ointment on each scrape was gentle. 

He had gotten what he wanted; Nekozawa-senpai would be checking into an Ootori hospital this evening for the surgery, and Kyouya had made a few quiet texts to ensure the expenses would be taken care of without his father noticing. He didn't begrudge Nekozawa the hassle; the moment he had seen the yellow rose petal he knew this was how it had to end. 

"You're beautiful when you're angry," he murmured as she pressed down on the last band-aid. 

"Don't try to flatter me to get out of this. I'm furious with you." Haruhi scowled at him for added emphasis.

"I deserve it," he conceded. "But I refuse to share you, Haru-chan."

"Then confess." Her hand tightened on his arm.

"Would you deny me?"

"Considering how angry I am, I very well might." Letting go of him, Haruhi picked up the wrappers from the bandaids and tucked them into her purse, to be disposed of later.

"Then I'll wait," he mumbled. Whatever that pill she had given him for the pain was making him sleepy.

"You ruined my weekend," she accused, but didn't object when he slid down to lay on the seat with his head in her lap.

"I'll make it up to you." 

Haruhi scoffed, but her fingers slid into his hair. "And how will you do that?"

"I'll take you to Fiji."

"I don't want to go to Fiji." He couldn't tell if she was serious or just being argumentative, but the way her nails were lightly scratching his scalp was making it hard to stay awake.

"Where do you want to go then?" 

"Boston." He felt something tap his cheek, and Kyouya opened his eyes and looked up to see Haruhi was crying and looking away from him. "I want to go to university in America." 

"Okay." He rolled onto his side, burying his face in her stomach. "I will hire someone to manage the cafe while we're out of the country."

"You think you're coming with me?" She laughed. 

Kyouya yawned. "You think I'd let my wife live overseas by herself for four years?"

"Shut up," Haruhi groused, but she didn't stop scratching his scalp until after he'd fallen asleep.


	10. July - You Will Be Vulnerable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haruhi and Kyouya confront the growing problems between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Ouran antics next chapter!

"Dad, can I talk to you?"

Ryoji looked up from his cell phone and nodded. "Of course, dear." He patted the floor next to him. "What's on your mind?"

Haruhi exhaled slowly after she sat down. "I would like to get on birth control."

Gripping his phone until his fingers were white, he said through clenched teeth, "I didn't realize you had a boyfriend."

"I don't," she replied, "but I know a guy who'd be irritated to hear me say that."

"Kyouya."

It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. "We haven't… gone that far, yet. But…" Haruhi's face flooded with a blush. "I'd rather be prepared."

"You've always been a sensible girl," he said, "and I trust you to be smart about this, but I have to ask: Why are you thinking about having sex with Kyouya if he's not your boyfriend?"

"At this point, I'm just waiting for him to confess."

"Why don't you confess to him?" He reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind Haruhi's ear. It was getting a little shaggy, and she'd need to get it cut soon.

She balled her fists up on her knees. "I haven't figured out his game. He told me that -'' she swallowed, "that I'm what he and his dad fought about. He talks about marrying me right after high school, but I don't know if I believe any of it. He's terribly manipulative when he wants to be. I can't help but wonder if the only reason he's saying those things - if the reason it took him so _long_ to say those things - is because he is using me for something else that I haven't figured out yet."

Ryoji rubbed her back between her shoulder blades. "Do you trust him, Haruhi?"

He didn't call attention to the fact that she was crying, even though they could both see the tears hitting her fists and knees. Finally she lifted one hand and wiped her eyes. "I _want_ to, but I…" She gasped a few minutes, as if she was struggling to breathe. "I shut out someone I thought I might have been happy with, for him, and he didn't even confess _then._ I can't help but wonder about all the 'What if?'s he won't answer. He's hiding something, but…"

"... but you still like him," he finished for her. When she nodded, he sighed. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you and say it's an easy fix, but I just want you to think about something, and come to your own conclusions: what if you _are_ what he and his dad fought about? What if he does want to marry you? What if whatever he's hiding, he has a good reason to?"

"How likely is that?" she said, scowling at the door.

"I'm just saying," he replied gently, "that you can never know the whole story, Haruhi. And at some point, you have to just… _choose_ whether or not you will let someone in. Whether or not you will be vulnerable."

"What if I choose wrong?" Haruhi looked up at him helplessly. "What if I decide to trust him anyway, and he's just using me?"

"Then that says something about _him,_ not _you."_ He patted her head. "I can't make this choice for you, sweetie. All I can do is support you, whatever you decide."

She inhaled deeply, then climbed to her feet. "You're right. I need to think about it and decide for myself."

Haruhi took a few steps toward the door before he asked, "Do you still want me to make you that appointment?"

"Yes," she said. "I'd rather have it out of the way."

"Okay," he stood up. "Have fun shopping."

"I'm just going to the grocery store," she grumbled. 

"Yes," her father agreed. "But Kyouya-kun is meeting you there, isn't he?"

Pulling on her shoes, she blushed profusely. "Bye, Dad."

"See you tomorrow, Haruhi."

Ryoji waited thirty seconds, then looked out the window and watched her walk down the street until she was out of sight. Then he looked down at his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for, labelled "O. Y."

The phone rang twice before the other end was picked up. "Fujioka-san?"

"Hello, Ootori-san. Just calling to let you know there's been a rather interesting development."

* * *

"Thanks for coming in with me today," Kyouya said as he unlocked the door to the cafe. "I haven't decided what to replace the mural with yet though."

"Well, you did a field of flowers for spring, right?" Haruhi asked, blatantly looking through his bag of art supplies. "Why not something brighter for summer? Like fireworks, or a koi pond?"

"Hmm… I'll consider it," he said, holding the door open for her. Together, they moved the furniture away from the wall, and draped a protective cloth along the floor. "We should put some primer over this before I paint on the new -"

"Wait!" Haruhi fished her phone out of her pocket and held it up, taking a long, panoramic photo of the mural. "I don't want it to be lost forever."

He shrugged self-consciously. "It's not like anyone's going to miss it."

"I will." Her face was warm when he looked back over at her, and she looked away. "S-so you have to paint something I'll like just as much, or I'll never forgive you for covering it up."

"I'll try not to disappoint you," he said. "Now let's get the primer over it."

An hour later he was scowling at the wall - this coat of primer wasn't even done, and it was obviously going to require at least two more, and then the time it would take him to do the initial sketch and all the painting… If he was going to get this done in time for it to dry before he opened the day after tomorrow he would either need to forego sleep, or get more help. Not that Haruhi wasn't pulling her weight, but there was only so much two people could do.

As if she sensed his dilemma, Haruhi turned to him and said, "I have some friends in the area who might be able to come help, if you don't mind people who aren't part of the Ouran crowd."

"That would be a help. I can order sushi for everyone," he offered. Asking for free work from Haruhi was one thing - he didn't want the intimacy of owed favors with strangers.

"Okay!" she seemed to brighten, and stepped away from the wall to wash her hands and make the call. While she did that, he sent a text to the Host Club group chat, asking if anyone was free to come by. When she came out of the back office, Haruhi was all smiles. "My friend Mei is coming, with a friend of hers from school, Sumire. They both go to Umeshiba."

"That's a local girl's school, if I remember right?"

Haruhi nodded. "Our dads are friends, though I should warn you… she isn't exactly cool with the whole 'Haruhi pretends to be a boy at school' thing."

Kyouya felt his eyebrows shoot up. "What business is it of hers?"

"Normally none, but…" She sighed. "Her dad does drag performances too, and she's not as cool with it as I am, but she's getting better. Please just cut her some slack."

He made a sound in the back of his throat, but didn't verbally agree. While he would do his best to be patient with the girl, he would not hesitate to intervene if she bothered Haruhi too much.

The two of them went back to applying the primer, and made a little more headway before he heard someone pounding on the doors, and a girl's voice called, "Haruhi, open up!"

She shook her head and set down her roller, then wiped her hands on her jeans before opening the door. Kyouya had to look away before he laughed at the two handprints she'd left on her butt, but then had to do a double take as the two girls entered the coffee shop.

"Oof, Nice place, Haruhi," the first said, and he was still trying to make sense of her appearance. She was overly tanned, and her hair had been bleached and teased up into a spikey mess around her head, as if that could distract from the absolutely garish makeup that was the signature look of the "ganguro" fashion.

"Aah, Kyouya, let me introduce my friends. This is Yasumura Mei," Haruhi gestured to the eyesore, "and this is Oshiga Sumire." She gestured to the second girl who had come in, a much more normal young woman with lighter than usual hair, but nothing so severe as Mei's. They both bowed politely, and Haruhi turned to face them. "And this is my…" She hesitated only barely, but Kyouya noticed, and made a note to prod her about it later. "... friend, Ootori Kyouya."

"Ootori?" Sumire asked. "Like the hospitals?"

He nodded. "My father manages the Ootori Group."

Mei blew a massive, neon-pink bubble with her bubble gum, and popped it with a snap that filled the small space. "Neat. So, you want us to paint over these flowers or something?"

"We're putting up primer," Haruhi said affably, and Kyouya couldn't help but notice the way she relaxed with the other girls there. "Kyouya's an amazing painter, he's going to replace the mural with something for summer, but it's taking _way_ too long with just the two of us. He's gonna buy us sushi, though. Aren't you, Kyouya?"

"Of course," he mumbled, trying to hide the blush he felt coming on at her describing him as an "amazing painter."

"Let me put my hair up," Sumire said quietly, and set her bag down on one of the chairs as the sound of a motor right outside suddenly cut out. 

All of them looked out the front window to see a lanky man on a motorcycle parking on the curb, then unclasping his helmet. Haruhi gasped as he pulled it off. "Mori-senpai?"

"Aah," Kyouya said, "I'd forgotten he'd gotten his motorcycle license."

Mori pushed open the door and gave a short wave, setting his helmet down on the table. He lifted one hand in silent greeting to Kyouya and Haruhi, then an eyebrow when he noticed Mei and Sumire, who were both staring at him. 

"Oh," Haruhi laughed. "Guys, this is my senpai, Morinozuka Takashi. Mori-senpai, these are two of my friends from outside school - Mei Yasumura and Oshiga Sumire."

He offered them both a polite nod, then turned his attention back to Haruhi, who said, "We're trying to get the mural primered over but it's taking longer than we thought." 

"Got it," Mori said, and unzipped his leather jacket, tossing it on the table beside his helmet.

Kyouya went back to rolling primer on the wall but noticed it was relatively quiet, he turned around again to find Mori-senpai rolling up the sleeves of his shirt while all three girls practically salivated over him. While he didn't mind the other two ogling Morinozuka, Haruhi was another matter. 

He cleared his throat, and she glanced guiltily in his direction. "S-sorry. I know we're pressed for time." Haruhi moved back to his side.

"Mori-senpai," Kyouya said coolly, "Do you mind helping Yasumura and Oshiga get set up as well? I need to have a word with Haruhi in the office."

Nodding, Mori moved to the big pile of painting supplies on another table, and Kyouya took Haruhi's hand and led her into the back, ignoring the sudden whispers that broke out between Mei and Sumire. After he shut the door, he pulled her close by her hips and kissed her. "Why were you so enraptured by Mori-senpai, Haru-chan?"

She blushed. "I wasn't."

"Liar." He took off his glasses and buried his face in her neck, kissing along the column of her throat. 

"Still jealous, I see." Haruhi's hand slipped into his hair, keeping him close. "You don't get to complain about me wanting someone else if you won't confess."

"I am an Ootori. I can do whatever I want."

"Keep saying that," she whispered, "and maybe one day I'll believe it." Then she put her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "You said you wanted to talk to me?"

He tried to ignore the taste of her skin lingering on his lips. "Right… I…" Kyouya had originally planned to make her forget Morinozuka with kisses and whatever else she might accept, so he scrambled to come up with something else. "Are you still thinking about having the Host Club host a Midsummer's Ball?"

She nodded. "The evening after the last finals."

"You'll be attending as my date," he said stiffly.

Haruhi laughed and shook her head. "Did you forget that I'll be a _boy_ there? It's a Host Club event."

"And? I am in l-" he coughed. "I am attracted to _you,_ Haruhi. The rest is minutiae."

She pressed her mouth into a thin line and gave him a hard stare before she said, abruptly. "I started birth control two weeks ago."

Whatever semblance of pulling his mind out of the gutter was lost after that declaration, and he reached for her again, only to be stopped by her hand on his sternum. "But," she continued, "I'm not going to sleep with you until after you've confessed."

"Why not?" Kyouya lifted one of his hands to hers on his chest, and traced her fingers gently.

"Because I deserve better than _this._ Especially from you."

* * *

Kyouya scowled at the wall as he applied the colors, channelling his anger into stillness and adding details that no one but a few would notice. Haruhi had asked for a koi pond, and she got one. Now he was adding the final touches - ghostly reflections in the water, of the two of them side by side, watching the fish; their images were distorted, as if the pond had been disturbed, but visible if one knew what they were looking for.

Her words the day before hurt, mostly because they were true, but he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it. He was risking his life, running out the clock to give her time to fall in love with him; what right did she have to demand his vulnerability on top of that?

After mixing up a misty blue, he used it to add the impression of moonlight on the water's surface. Behind him, he heard the door open, and called out, "We're closed."

"I know." 

Haruhi's voice startled him, and he nearly ruined the mural in the shock, but managed to keep the brush away from the wall. He carefully descended the stepladder, setting his palette and brush on the counter before he wiped off his hands and turned to her. Kyouya tried to think of something to say, but words failed him, so he just remained stoic and silent, hoping she would take up the burden of the conversation.

"It looks good," she said, looking over his latest work. "I like the colors - you've really captured the feeling of a summer night."

"Thank you." He shifted uncomfortably - he wasn't used to people praising his work. 

"You skipped breakfast," she said quietly.

"I wanted to get an early start, since this was going to take me most of the day," he said. "I didn't want to wake you."

"I waited for you." She pressed a hand to her face, and that's when he realized she was crying. "I waited until lunch and you never showed up. You didn't text me, you didn't call, and you didn't answer _my_ texts or calls. I -"

Kyouya hadn't realized that he had been moving toward her until he was wrapping his arms around her, pulling her down onto one of the couches so he could cradle her close. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You were angry with me, and you have every right to be, so I thought it better to leave you to it." 

"For someone so intelligent you are abominably stupid," she said around her tears.

"You're probably correct." 

Her laugh was acerbic and dry, but it was a laugh, so he took it as a small victory. "I think we need to talk about this, Kyouya. _Really_ talk about this."

"All right. I…" He swallowed. "Why don't I make us some tea?"

"I'll make the tea," she said, pulling herself out of his arms. "You get cleaned up."

Haruhi went behind the counter and bustled about making tea while he went into the restroom and washed his hands. He was covered in varying shades of blue and green, and felt a little more normal once the mess was confined to his clothing. 

Bracing his hands on either side of the sink, Kyouya looked at his reflection, willing himself to calm down. He didn't have to tell Haruhi everything. Not today. But he had to tell her _something,_ give her some explanation, or he would lose her.

He opened the door to find her setting out the tea she had made, and two bento boxes. "Y-you made me a bento?"

"Of course I did," she said off-handedly. "You didn't come by for breakfast, and you tend to skip meals if you don't have someone reminding you to eat." Her eyes flicked over to him, then back to the teacup she was filling. "You've lost weight since you moved out of your family estate."

"Oh." Kyouya took the seat beside her and a steadying sip of tea along with it. "I'll try to be more careful."

"Or you could come by more often."

He chuckled. "I already eat breakfast with you nearly every day, and we have dinner together every night your dad works."

"Why haven't we changed that to every night, Kyouya?" She took her own sip of tea. "Why haven't you confessed?"

Looking down at his teacup, he sighed. "I promised the others I wouldn't yet."

"Yet?" Haruhi opened the bento sitting in front of her and started eating, but her eyes never left him.

Kyouya shook his head. "It's… extremely stupid. You're going to mock me, and probably the rest of the Host Club." He opened the bento and couldn't help but laugh. She had made him little octopii out of hot dogs, but taken the time to give them all angry faces cut out of nori. It was so childish and petulant and endearing and so very Haruhi, to express her displeasure with him in a way that reminded him he was still loved. She did love him, he knew then. She just wasn't ready to admit it to herself. Perhaps he had been too hard on her.

"I mock you all on a regular basis," she reminded him while he ate a few bites. "I don't think it will change much if the specific things I'm mocking are new."

"The day you announced you were ready to date," he whispered. "Do you remember how everyone started arguing?"

She blushed. "You took me back in the office so I could avoid the yelling and let me listen to your music."

"While you were back there…" He took a sip of tea. "Hani-senpai managed to corral everyone, and we discussed the fact that _all_ of us wanted to date you." Picking up one of the octopii, he popped it into his mouth while she laughed, then continued. "To keep the peace, we agreed that we would all have the chance to date you properly, and none of us could confess until everyone had their turn. Only one of us can try for you per month."

Her face blanched. "And Hani-senpai was April."

Kyouya nodded. "I'm relatively sure he planned that day knowing there would be a storm. He… he knows how I feel about you, and he knows that once I have you, I won't let go." He chuckled into his tea. "I think that's why he manipulated the situation so I would go last."

That sat in silence for a few minutes, just eating quietly, before she asked, "When are you up?"

"November." 

"So you've been sneaking around behind the others' backs, doing everything but -" she laughed suddenly. "You are a stickler for the letter of the law, Kyo-chan. You won't confess, because you promised not to, but you will do everything I let you get away with."

"I never claimed to be any different."

"What happens if I confess to you?" she asked suddenly.

"That wasn't part of the bargain," he admitted. "So I would accept your feelings, reciprocate them, and then probably make you fail your exams with how little time I would give you to study." 

"Then I won't confess yet," Haruhi said. "I think I'll enjoy dating the rest of our friends and making you suffer."

"You've been friends with those twins for too long, I see; taking pleasure in others' suffering."

"I have to get something over on you damn rich people." She took another sip of tea. "Who is supposed to date me this month?"

"Kaoru," he answered. "But I've got 50/50 odds that he either doesn't take the opportunity or tries some mischief to tilt things in Hikaru's favor."

"I can't _wait_ to see what they do." 

They finished eating, then sat in silence, staring at the mural on the wall. "What does this mean for us, Haru-chan?" he asked, irritated but not surprised at the anxiety in his voice.

"I know you're still hiding something," she said. "But I think… I think the idea of not having you at breakfast in the morning hurts more than knowing that does. And I think Hani-senpai is right."

"Oh?" 

"I think once we get over ourselves, that will be it. For both of us."


	11. July - Taking me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Host Club is in session. Haruhi talks to her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the break! I had a bit of a crazy week and needed to get things in order mentally.

Haruhi's cell phone buzzed in her pocket and she pulled it out to take a quick glance at her messages. 

**Kaoru:** Hikaru and I need your help with a prank.

Beside her, Kyouya raised an eyebrow. Since their talk, they had begun to spend more time together, going out of their way to steal moments when they could. The Host Club wouldn't start receiving guests for another twenty minutes, so here he was, in Music Room #3, pretending to help her with the financials while his hands moved over her back beneath her blazer.

She gave him a playful wink and turned her phone away so he couldn't see their conversation.

**Haruhi:** What do you need?

**Kaoru:** We're switching places. Can you call us by each other's names when we're around other people until the end of the month?

**Haruhi:** You think the prank will last that long?

**Kaoru:** Probably.

**Haruhi:** I want to clear this with Hikaru before I agree.

**Kaoru:** Sure, let me invite him.

**Hikaru has joined the chat.**

**Hikaru:** Yeah, I'm in on the prank, Haruhi.

**Haruhi:** What is the prank?

**Hikaru:** Just something we're pulling on the other hosts. Not you. Don't worry.

**Haruhi:** It had better not interfere with the Host Club activities, or the Ball, or exams.

**Kaoru:** It won't. 

**Hikaru:** It won't.

**Haruhi:** … fine.

"You know, if you don't want me around, I can go," Kyouya teased.

She smacked him playfully with one hand as she put her phone away. "If I wanted you to go I'd tell you to. The trick would be getting you to listen."

Kyouya pulled her closer and kissed her jaw just below her ear. "If you ever really wanted me to go, I would. Even if it killed me."

"Why would I want you to go?" Her voice had fallen to a hushed whisper. "We're moving to America together after I graduate."

"I can only hope your English is up to snuff," he teased.

"I am top of my class in English, thank you very much." 

"Says the girl who wasn't familiar with Shakespeare." She stuck out her tongue in response, then squeaked when he licked it before giving her a few heady kisses.

"Like you know more Shakespeare than I do," she whispered into his mouth.

He nipped her lower lip gently. "Would you like to bet on that, Haru-chan?"

Her eyes fluttered shut. "I thought you didn't gamble with me."

"With you? Never." Taking Haruhi's phone from her hand, he set it on the table then put his arms around her properly. "Against you? Well, that depends on the stakes."

"What did you have in mind?"

Pulling her into his lap, he kissed her again. "I'll give you three Shakespeare quotes. You have to name which of his plays each of them came from. If you get any wrong, you will go to the Midsummer's ball as my date."

Haruhi pressed her lips to his cheek. "And if I get all three right?"

"What would you like?" He smirked at her.

Her smile turned mischievous. "You won't interfere with me dating the twins."

Kyouya's mouth settled into a thin line. "You'll go to the ball as my date, _and_ spend your Summer Break with me."

"You're not confident you'll win, Kyo-chan?" she teased.

"If it were anyone else, I would be; but your intelligence is one of the things I love about you."

Looking away, Haruhi said, "Let's hear your first quote, then."

Placing one finger on her cheek, he pressed gently, turning her to face him. _"'Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.'"_

Her cheeks flushed slightly, the barest dusting of pink. "R-Romeo and Juliet."

He nodded, and shifted his hand to cup her cheek and keep her looking into his eyes. _"'Away before me to sweet beds of flowers. Love thoughts lie rich when canopied with bowers.'"_

As her blush deepened, she stammered out, "Twelfth N-Night, Kyo-chan."

Letting go of her face, Kyouya took her hands and lifted them to his face, pressing a kiss against each before he said, _"'I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, to die upon the hand I love so well.'"_

Haruhi's blush tore its way down her neck, and she trembled in his lap. Chuckling, he pulled her close for a kiss, only for her to whisper, "A Midsummer Night's Dream."

"Aah," he said, setting her aside gently. "You have studied well, Haru-chan."

"Of course I did," she grinned. "I only keep my scholarship if I remain at the top of my class."

He returned his focus to the club's finances in an attempt to hide his disappointment. "I should have known better than to wager on something dealing with your education. Your single-minded pursuit of your goals is another thing I love about you."

After a few minutes of silence, while he balanced the budget and she flipped through her notes, she said, "Why haven't you taken me on a date, Kyouya?"

"November, remember?" he said, without looking up. 

"That's only for _them,"_ she specified. "I'm talking about us." Kyouya could feel her shift beside him, leaning back against the sofa. "From what you've said, the agreement you all made is that only one of you can _ask_ me on a date in a given month. Nothing was said about just… _taking_ me on one."

His hands were moving faster than his mind, and he set a piece of paper and pen in front of her. "You will tell me which evenings you are available for the next two weeks."

Haruhi had just finished filling the page out and pushed it back to him when the door opened, and the twins came in. 

"Hey Guys!" she said, hopping to her feet so they wouldn't see the way they'd been cuddling. 

One of them scratched the back of his neck and looked almost sullen. "Can I talk to you a minute, Haruhi?"

"Sure, Kaoru," she said, and let him lead her away toward the windows that lined the left wall. Kyouya tried to watch them, but the other twin, who must obviously be Hikaru, blocked his view when he leaned over the laptop.

"What are you working on, senpai?" he asked.

"I promised Haruhi I would help with the budgeting, so we were looking to see if any money could be moved around to make some last minute improvements for the Midsummer's Ball." Kyouya pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to pretend he wasn't irritated. He knew Kaoru was asking her out, and since he had lost their wager and couldn't interfere with them dating, he wanted to interfere with the asking. He eyed Hikaru. "Could you get things set up for the club, since Kaoru and Haruhi are busy and I need to finish these reports and make some calls?"

Hikaru gave him finger guns. "You got it, Kyouya!" 

Once he was gone, and it was obvious Kaoru and Haruhi were distracted, Kyouya slipped the paper with Haruhi's schedule back into view and picked up his cell phone. "Hello, Fuyumi. I need a favor."

* * *

"I must thank you ladies again for coming to visit me," Isao said, smiling warmly to the three girls on the couch opposite him. "I spent longer than I care to admit selecting which china to serve you tea in."

All three of them blushed and giggled excitedly, telling him how perfect it was, and Haruhi stopped by their table. "Can I bring you ladies any cookies or cakes to have with your tea?" 

One of them looked up, bright-eyed. "Do you have any of the castella cakes in, Haruhi-senpai?"

"I'll send some over right away," she said, then placed a hand on Isao's shoulder. "Where's Tamaki-senpai? I thought he was going to be helping you."

The younger Suzushima smirked. "Mayashita-senpai practices the piano at the Ootori Cafe from five to six every evening. It seems Suoh-senpai _must_ head home at half-past four every evening since he learned that."

Catching his meaning, she grinned. "He has always been very punctual."

Now sure that their group was all right, she cycled around to Takahiro, who was furiously flipping through the calendar, with Mori-senpai looking over his shoulder and shaking his head. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Mori touched the first year's shoulder. "Fujioka spoke to you," he said quietly. 

Standing up, Takahiro turned to face her and bowed. "I must ask your forgiveness, Fujioka-senpai -"

"Please," she said, "I told you to call me Haruhi."

"- but I accidentally double-booked you for your next appointment."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "The five usually goes to Kasanoda-kun."

"Yes," he agreed, "but I also received a call from Ootori-senpai -" Haruhi's heart fluttered at the idea that he might have booked an appointment with her, then crashed when Takahiro continued, "- to allow a couple of your friends who do not attend Ouran to participate in the host club. One of them, Yasumura Mei, asked for the five, but I forgot about Kasanoda-kun, and…"

"That's fine," she said. "Mei-chan and Kasanoda-kun are my friends. I am sure we can work something out ourselves. Are there any other appointments I should know about?"

"No… I think I got the rest of it handled. Please forgive my lapse in memory." 

Haruhi shook her head. "We all make mistakes sometime. Though you should probably talk to Kyouya-kun; I am sure he has some system to prevent double-bookings that he would be happy to share with you."

"Thank you, Haruhi-senpai," he said.

The door clicked, and Haruhi looked up to see three girls entering. Two, she knew, though only one was expected. Mei had arrived, dragging Sumire in by the arm, and speaking in an animated manner to a girl who was not Japanese. 

"I didn't know Mae-chan had an appointment." 

Takahiro looked back over his notes. "I… don't have a Mae listed today?"

Mori glanced over his shoulder and pointed to a line on the list. "You have her listed as Cerridwen Maeve. She's Scottish, so they invert the family and given names."

"You know her, Mori-senpai?" 

He nodded. "She used to be a regular, and bounced between Hani and Kyouya. Her brother, Comac-kun, was in my class."

Something about her having been one of Kyouya's regulars made Haruhi frown, but then the three girls were upon them. "Haruhi-kun!" Maeve said, smiling brightly. "Can you set up some of that Parisienne breakfast tea? My gran sent some shortbread so I thought I'd share it with Hani-senpai."

"I'll do it," Kyouya said, appearing by Haruhi's side. "But only if you'll let me try one as well."

Maeve giggled and allowed Kyouya to lead her away, not noticing the way Haruhi pressed her lips into a thin line. 

"Are you okay?" Mei asked, frowning. 

"I'm all right," Haruhi said dismissively. "I just wish people would remember that I'm not the Host Club's dog. My debt is paid." She shook her head. "Mei, I accidentally got double-booked, I'm supposed to see you _and_ Kasanoda-kun at five."

Mei waved her hand dismissively. "I'll go talk to Kasanoda. Can you get Sumi-chan squared away?" She waved a hand at Sumire who was blushing deeply. "She's never been here before but when I mentioned I was coming by, she asked to come."

"Of course!" Haruhi turned to Sumire, all smiles. "Welcome to the Host Club, Sumi-chan! Were you hoping for an appointment or just coming to check it out?"

Sumire opened her mouth to say something, but Mei called "She wants an appointment!" over her shoulder.

The shy girl pressed her lips together and hunched her shoulders, trying to hide her blush. Without missing a beat, Haruhi took the schedule notes from Takahiro and took her aside so no one could overhear them. "There's no need to be shy. Everyone is just here to have fun, okay? I know it can be hard, so how about you tell me who you want to sit with, and I'll arrange it, okay?"

Nodding, Sumire whispered something so low that Haruhi couldn't hear her. After leaning a little closer, she said, "Morinozuka-san, if he's available. I don't have much but I brought my savings and I hope -"

Haruhi put her hand on Sumire's shoulder. "Don't worry about that, okay? It's your first time. We do it based on points on the website auctions, so you're fine. I'll have Mei give you the site so you can check things out if you want to visit again." She smiled at the girl. "Do you want me to go tell Mo-"

"N-no!" Sumire blushed even harder, if that were possible. "I… I don't want… Oh, this is stupid, I'm stupid, I -"

"Oshiga," Haruhi chided. "Breathe. I'll handle it. Go wait with Mei." As soon as she had walked away Haruhi wento to Mori-senpai. "Could you do me a favor?"

He glanced down at her and tilted his head.

"It's Sumire's first time, and she's very nervous. Since you're the most low-key person here, I was hoping you might take care of her. I don't think she's up for…" Her eyes moved over to the twins, and Mori smiled. 

"I've got it," he said, and patted Haruhi's head. "Bring some bracing tea and german chocolate cake."

* * *

"Haruhi should be pouring tea for _me!"_ Mei shouted, snatching the cup from Kasanoda.

"I'm not the one who's trying to take over my time slot!" he snarled back.

Kyouya watched with bemusement, twirling a pen between his fingers. Everything seemed to be going according to his plan. Sumire would distract Morinozuka, Mei would make Kasanoda embarrass himself, so he just had to weather the twins and by autumn Haruhi would be his.

He waited, continuing to watch the antics, until the grandfather clock chimed six. Then he smoothly shut his laptop and packed up his things. 

Haruhi seemed exhausted, and he almost reached for her as she came close, but Mori's silhouette appeared in front of the window. "Haruhi-kun," he said quietly.

She turned to face Mori, looking up at him curiously. "Yes, senpai?"

"Don't charge Sumire," he said quietly. 

"I wasn't planning on it."

_"Ever."_ Mori's voice was strained. "She is shy. She needs time."

"All right, Mori-senpai." 

Nodding, Mori left without another word, leading Haruhi to turn to Kyouya and lift her eyebrows curiously. 

He put his bag over his shoulder, then took hers, ignoring her objections and guiding her out of the building at his side. The silence as they walked home together was comfortable, and before he could stop himself he reached out and caught her hand in his. Haruhi didn't object, so they continued that way until they reached the base of the stairs leading up to her apartment door.

She stopped and turned to face him, and he realized he either needed to follow her, or let go; and he had so much still to do. "I will pick you up tomorrow evening at five. Wear cocktail attire."

Haruhi blushed furiously, but he didn't wait for a response, just lifted their still-clasped hands to his face and pressed his forehead against the back of her hand before he released her and went home.

* * *

Haruhi didn't know why she was so nervous; she'd spent lots of time with Kyouya over the past few months. She knew cocktail dresses were supposed to be a little sexy, at least. And Kyouya had already seen her naked - her cheeks flushed at the memory of that night at Nekozawa's beach house, and the way his gentle hands had thoroughly explored every inch of her. 

Picking at the hem one last time, she gave up. She would just have to trust Yuzuha-san had known what she was doing when putting her in this dress. From the waist up, everything was fine! It was simple and black, and hid the fact that despite a little growth in the chest department, she still wasn't busty like Mei. It was the skirt that was the problem. It was a proper length, and swayed softly as she moved, but partway up, just a _little_ too high for Haruhi's comfort, was a strip of sheer fabric. It bisected the skirt showing off a scandalous strip of her thighs. Not inappropriate just… sexy. But it was the only cocktail dress she had, one of the things she hadn't had the chance to wear to the beach house. 

She fished a pair of black high heels out of her closet and pulled them on, before taking another look at herself in her dad's full-length mirror. He had already left for work - Saturday nights were always busy - so she had the apartment to herself. It was probably better like this; he would have just interfered with her getting ready and tried to push her into something pink and frilly. His voice in her head, however, said the look still needed something. All of her father's jewelry was gaudy and appropriate for his work outfits, not a date, but…

Kneeling before the family shrine, Haruhi pulled open the doors. "Hey, Mom." She picked up some incense and lit it, stuffing it into the little bowl of sand and pressing her hands together. Most of the time, when paying respects to her mother, Haruhi only spoke the rote prayers. It was easier than facing the gaping hole Kotoko had left in her family. She could just pretend this was a chore, and someday her mother might walk in the door and she could tell her what she missed. But this… this was a big deal.

As the incense burned down, she reached behind the photo of her mother and pulled out a small, black-lackquered box. Pushing it open with one finger, she looked at the jewelry within - her _mother's_ things, things her father had told her were hers whenever she wanted them, but had always felt were too important for any occasion she'd had.

Until tonight. 

She had been on dates before, but for some reason she knew tonight, with Kyouya, would be different. None of this stuff would _impress_ him but they were the most precious things she owned - tiny chips of diamond a quarter of the size of what the other girls at school wore _at best -_ but they had been her mother's.

Taking a steadying breath, she looked at the framed picture of her mother. "Mom, I really like him. So much that it scares me."

* * *

Kyouya bit the inside of his cheek for the fifth time that night. It was the only thing keeping his hands from wandering to Haruhi's body. He had intended to enjoy the opera he had taken her to, _Tristan und Isolde,_ but her appearance had taken him by surprise; the understated elegance he adored was still there, but she had added some simple jewelry that caught the low light from the stage from time to time, drawing his attention to her collarbone and her wrist. 

A wrist that was currently resting in her lap, just beside the sheer stripe of her skirt that exposed her creamy thighs - thighs that reminded him of having her on her back beneath him last month, the way they had trembled when he stroked her. He had come too close to losing control of himself that night. 

As the lovers on the stage chose death rather than separation, he allowed himself one petty rebellion to his own self-mastery, and caught her hand. Though her eyes didn't leave the stage, Haruhi's fingers laced with his, then she pulled his hand into her lap, brushing the fingers of her free hand against his knuckles, and he was suddenly overcome with how much he loved her. 

It wasn't fair, but life never had been. Why would love be any different?


	12. July - Midsummer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Midsummer's Ball.

Haruhi stood in the Host Club prep room, adjusting the bowtie on her tuxedo. Behind her, the twins were checking over the younger members, and making sure their tuxes were in order as well. Hikaru caught her eye in the mirror and winked, before hassling Chika-chan about how stiffly he stood in the suit. Their date had gone well, despite the fact that they were pretending he was Kaoru to the other hosts. She chalked that up to the lack of Kyouya's interference. 

The thought of _Kyouya_ made her blush, especially when she remembered the opera. It had been delightful, even though she spoke no German; he had made sure to explain the basic outline of the story in advance. Even better, a few times throughout the performance he had leaned close, explaining some bit of trivia or wordplay in a soft, breathy whisper that tickled her ear and made her heart race.

She had been disappointed when he had left her at her door with just a chaste good night kiss, only for him to knock again ten minutes later and not stop kissing and touching her until she fell asleep in his arms. Her cheeks flushed harder, and she bit her lip, only to see Hikaru watching her in the mirror again, blushing just as hard. 

Guilt overwhelmed her for a moment - did he think she was thinking about _their_ date? It had been nice, of course. He'd taken her to the park to look at swans and chat, then lunch at a lovely restaurant with views of the lake. It hadn't been nearly as bad as their last date, and she was glad he'd matured in the last two years, but…

But he wasn't _Kyouya._ The whole time they had looked at the swans all she could think about was how hot it was; who plans an outdoor date in the middle of the afternoon in _July?_ They had shared lovely conversation as they walked around, but she didn't really feel like he was _listening_ to her so much as _waiting for his turn to talk._ And lunch had been delicious, except for the parts when he got overly incensed that they were out of the first thing she'd ordered and still pouting well after her second choice had arrived. 

Though she had half a mind to not accept a second date, she wanted Kyouya to sweat a little. The youngest Ootori seemed to _revel_ in his power over her; she needed to find some hold to have over him.

* * *

Kyouya leaned over the sink, desperately trying to wash the taste of blood out of his mouth and glaring at the new inhalator his doctor had given him.

_"The_ Hanahaki _is progressing faster than we expected," the doctor had said, frowning at his x-rays. "Have you been using the inhalator?"_

_"Twice a day, as instructed," he confirmed, staring at the thorns on the light box and how they dug into his lungs._

_"Hmm." He pulled the images down and tucked them into the folder that held Kyouya's medical records. "How is your relationship with the girl?"_

_"She doesn't love me yet, obviously." Kyouya gestured to the folder. "But a number of our mutual friends keep interfering."_

_"Interfering? How?"_

_Sighing, Kyouya shook his head. He was here for medical advice, not relationship advice. Then again, in his situation, they were one and the same. "I am not the only one attracted to her. Our friends have all decided that they get to have a turn dating her, too."_

_"Aah. Jealousy." The doctor leaned over his tablet and made a few notes. "Jealousy is known to exacerbate the illness considerably. Have you confessed to her yet?"_

_"No." Kyouya scowled. "I'm not going to confess until she loves me. I won't be able to hide the_ Hanahaki _from her after that." He frowned and shook his head. "How long do you think I have?"_

_"Until January, at best."_

The door opened and Tamaki came in, concern evident on his face. "Are you alright? You missed Haruhi opening the ball."

He held up the inhalator. "Had to take my medication. Did it go all right?"

"Yeah." Tamaki patted his shoulder. "You know she can handle herself, but if you're done, we should get back. There are lots of guests hoping for dances." He chuckled into his hand, "Though you only have eyes for one."

"You're insufferable," Kyouya muttered, pushing the inhalator into an inner pocket of his suit and following Tamaki back to the ballroom. 

"I'm just amused to know the terrifying Ootori's weakness," the blond teased.

As they surveyed the crowd together, his reply died on his lips - Haruhi was dancing with one of the twins, and abruptly his mouth was stuffed with rose petals again. Kyouya surreptitiously pulled a tissue out of his pocket and used it to get rid of the petals without being noticed. 

Tamaki was gone almost instantly, probably off to dance with one of his multitude of admirers, so Kyouya took a moment to survey the girls waiting near the edge of the floor. Based on the regularity of the gaps in their positions, he could only assume that Haruhi had instituted a system to ensure every girl got asked to dance at least once. He considered Satoshi-kun dancing with one of Haruhi's regulars proof of that. 

But, as he wasn't in the club, he wasn't beholden to _Haruhi's_ plans, so he cut across the floor to her friend, Sumire's side. She was too far gone for Mori-senpai to be interested in him, but dancing with her would allow him to get onto the floor and closer to the object of his affections. 

Mustering all of his charm, he bowed and offered his hand. "Oshiga-hime, might I have this dance?"

"N-no, thank you!" she squeaked, and he glanced up in surprise to see her face was nearly as red as the roses behind her. "I-I just want to watch."

"Do you mind if I watch with you, then?" he teased. Kyouya was aware the girl was painfully shy, and he had to take his frustrations out on someone. 

She squeaked again when he took up the spot beside her without waiting for a response. He planned to make some quip to put her at ease; but his eyes naturally sought out Haruhi on the dance floor and found her being squeezed tight in her partner's arms as he kissed her.

Then the petals were back.

* * *

"Kyouya!" Haruhi complained as he pulled her by her wrist out of the ballroom and down a darkened hallway. "What's gotten into you?"

He didn't speak until the music was nothing but a distant hum, and the only light was the moonlight coming in through the windows. "I can't stand it."

When he released her wrist, Haruhi stepped forward and caught his hand in both of hers. "Can't stand what?"

_"You!"_ he bit out, turning to face her. Tears crowded his eyes, but he tilted his head so the soft blue glow of the moon caught his glasses and hid them from her. Kyouya took a calming breath, then licked his lips. "I can't stand seeing you with them. You're supposed to be _mine."_ His voice was soft, barely louder than the far off orchestra.

"I could be," her voice was thick. "You know I'm just waiting for you to confess."

Catching her face in his hands, Kyouya leaned down and kissed her. She could taste grass and the salt of his tears on his tongue before he pulled away, whispering, "And I'm waiting for you to love me." His eyes suddenly focused on something over her shoulder and he stood, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do _you_ want?"

She turned, blanching instantly. "K-Kaoru." In her shock, she forgot to switch the twins, but he was glaring at Kyouya, not her. 

"Ootori," he said, folding his arms. "Last time I saw a calendar, it was July, not November."

"Our agreement was for asking her on dates," Kyouya said just before she felt the heat of his body against her back. Without warning his arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against his chest while he rested his head on her shoulder. "Nothing else was off-limits." 

Kyouya's wicked smile was evident in his voice, and it infuriated her. Haruhi pushed herself out of his arms and took a few steps away. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here." She looked up at Kaoru, wincing internally. "Did you need something?"

His eyes flicked from her face to Kyouya's, then back again. "Yes. You were missed on the dance floor. I came to get you." Kaoru took a deep breath, and held out a hand to Haruhi. "Kyouya-senpai, will you give us a minute?"

Haruhi wanted him to say "No." She wanted him to put his arms back around her, to tell her that he loved her, to tell Kaoru that she was his girlfriend and he was never going to let her go. But etiquette demanded Kyouya do exactly what he did; he nodded and walked past her, heading back to the ballroom and leaving her alone with her classmate.

Kaoru said nothing until his footsteps had faded, then he relaxed and took a seat on the windowsill, giving her a weary smile. "Do you remember what I told you?"

"When?" She sat on the windowsill beside him, placing her hands on either side of her hips.

"When I took you on that date last year, to the amusement park."

Her cheeks flushed. "Oh, that." She swallowed. "That you loved me, but were going to set your feelings aside so Hikaru could pursue me."

"Exactly," Kaoru agreed, then turned to face her. _"Hikaru,_ not Kyouya." Without warning, his head dipped to hers and he kissed her. Nekozawa's kiss had been slow, thorough, like savoring an exotic delicacy on your last day of vacation. Hikaru's kiss on the dance floor had been selfish, pushing her too far too fast, as if he needed to assert his right to kiss her at the same time he did it. Kyouya's kisses were possessive, as if he had caught hold of strings inside her and pulled them taut, twirling them around his tongue. Kaoru's kiss wasn't like any of those - it was soft and warm and comforting, like fresh sheets out of the dryer - but it was also strangely empty, and she realized as he leaned back that what was missing was the _spark_ she had felt with the others.

After they pulled apart, he chuckled and shook his head. "I never had a chance at all, did I?"

"I'm sorry, Kaoru-kun." Haruhi smiled ruefully. "I used to have feelings for you, but when you told me you were choosing Hikaru…" She looked out the window and sighed. "I want to be with someone who would have picked me, in that situation."

"And that's Kyouya?"

"I don't know." Standing up, she pulled on the bottom of her tux jacket to straighten it. "I still haven't figured out what he's trying to get, but he's very jealous."

"I'm not asking about Ootori-senpai's feelings," Kaoru clarified. "I'm asking about _yours."_ He smiled, and the easy familiarity helped Haruhi relax. Even if she didn't return his feelings, this was still _Kaoru._ They were friends.

"I am literally just waiting for him to get over himself enough to confess," she admitted.

"Do you want to be with him?"

Haruhi paused, giving herself a minute to think about it. She knew Kaoru - if she said no, he would push her towards Hikaru. But if she said yes, what would he do? No. This was her friend. She would tell him the truth.

"I don't know. He is the one holding all the cards." She laughed hoarsely. "He says his father disowned him over me, that he wants to be with me. However, he refuses to confess, he pulls me closer and closer, then pushes me away... " Putting a hand to her head, Haruhi shrugged. "I know he's the cool type, but _damn."_

Kaoru's smile was tired, but slowly slid into mischief. "And you said he's jealous?"

_"Very."_ She clapped her fist in her other hand. "Didn't you see that fight he had with Nekozawa-senpai?"

He chuckled. "Then I'll help you."

"What?"

"Look, I know Hikaru's got it bad for you, and so do I. Hell, I think everyone in the Host Club does, to varying degrees." Kaoru stood and put a hand on her shoulder. "But what you want _matters,_ Haruhi. And you want to make Kyouya sweat, and actually put himself out there, right?"

She thought about Kaoru's words. "You're right."

Then all at once it was back, the cruel grin that he usually shared with Hikaru; the one that meant the twins were up to some _shenanigans._ "Do you trust Hikaru and I, Haruhi?"

* * *

Kyouya was surprised upon returning to the ballroom to see Nekozawa-senpai in a shadowy corner. The last thing he needed was his senpai's presence to start yet another fight with Haruhi. He took a few steps toward him, but relaxed immediately upon seeing him in deep conversation with that Scottish girl, Cerridwen-san.

Tamaki was still dancing; Hikaru was pouting near a pillar; Hani-senpai was standing near the dessert table with his girlfriend, Reiko; Mori-senpai was dancing with -

He did a double-take then laughed to himself. It seems his plan had worked better than he had expected; Morinozuka was guiding Sumire through a basic waltz, and the girl was looking up at him like he'd hung the moon.

Making his way to the buffet, he took up a glass of lemonade and gave it a few sips waiting for Haruhi to return. He had been an idiot to make things obvious to Kaoru, but he was exhausted with everything else in his life: the disease, the coffee shop, the girl he was seriously considering dying for. 

Footsteps coming down the marble stairs behind him made him turn, and he saw Kaoru return with Haruhi and murmur something to her before he went to speak with Hikaru. Kyouya knocked back the last of the lemonade once he was sure the twins were distracted and started heading for her, only to freeze as one of the twins shouted, "I told you already, Haruhi's _mine!"_

The music stopped, and when Kyouya looked over his shoulder, the dancers were clearing out the middle of the floor where the twins were having their argument.

"Hikaru!" Kaoru said, "You can't do this to us! I love Haruhi, too!"

The entire room gasped, and Kyouya put a hand over his mouth. He'd been aware Kaoru felt _something_ for Haruhi, but thought it had been subsumed for Hikaru. But if they both wanted her enough to fight about it?

"Guys!" Haruhi said, heading for them. "Can we talk about this somewhere else? You're disrupting the party."

Both of the twins looked down at her, then they're distressed faces broke into a wide smile as they looked at each other. 

Kaoru put an arm around Haruhi. "We share everything else..."

"... why not Haru-chan?" Hikaru's arm went around her from the other side, and they both smirked down at her.

Haruhi's face flushed red and the crowd shrieked in delight, making the ringing in Kyouya's ears about ten times worse.

People were talking - music was playing - he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't -

"Ootori-kun." Nekozawa was next to him, his hand on Kyouya's back, guiding him out of the ballroom and onto the darkened terrace. The night air was less stuffy than the ballroom, and his senpai's hands were unusually strong on his shoulders, pushing him over the railing so he could cough up roses into the shrubbery.

Kyouya glared furiously down at the mess of pale petals and blood and whispered, "Pathetic."

Cerridwen-san's voice was at his side. "I brought some water, Ootori-senpai." She offered him the glass when he came up for air, and Kyouya drank it gratefully, ignoring the blood on the rim when he pulled it away. 

Nekozawa patted his robes and nodded to the girl. "He'll need more water." While she was gone, he pulled a prescription bottle out of one of his sleeves, having Beelzenef pick it up and hand it to him.

"What?" Kyouya croaked, holding the bottle up in the moonlight. The only words he could make out were "Tessalon PERLE" before Nekozawa started speaking again.

"Pearls stolen from the deepest reaches of hell," he cooed. "Each one will still the coughing in all but the most violent of circumstances for half the day. But they are cursed objects, and will enslave all but the most wary in their snare."

"He means they're addictive," Cerridwen-san said, returning with the glass. "My mother took them when she had pneumonia. Work like a dream but nasty little buggers if you get hooked. Only take them when you absolutely need them."

"Do you mind if I have one, Senpai?" Kyouya asked.

"I didn't pull such a relic out just to _show_ you, Ootori-kun."

"Fair enough." Kyouya opened the bottle and took one, then nodded to Cerridwen when she passed him the water. The pill went down easily enough, and he handed the bottle back before pulling out his phone and texting his doctor to ask for a prescription. Then he looked up at the other man properly and sighed. "How have you been, Nekozawa-senpai?"

"I am still too weak to perform the usual sacrifices, but I can pray the black mass, so…" he shrugged. "Also, after your strong showing against my magically-enhanced fencing, I think you can call me Umehito."

Kyouya chuckled. "Then you must call me Kyouya, Umehito-kun."

The robed man nodded at the same time Beelzenef did, but Cerridwen-san frowned. "Wait, fencing? Did I miss something?"

"My dissection was a result of Kyouya-kun's masterful manipulation. We suffered the same curse for the same shrouded maiden." 

He gave Nekozawa a warning look, but she was smarter than he gave her credit for.

"Wait, shrouded maiden, hidden girl…" Cerridwen gasped. "You mean Haruhi's a -" 

"Don't finish that sentence," Kyouya snapped. "Cerridwen-san, it is a secret that only a few people know."

"Please," she waved her hand. "Call me Maeve. Cerridwen-san is my father. And wait a second - same _curse?"_ She rounded on Umehito. "You have _Hanahaki_ for Haruhi _too?"_

"Had," he corrected. "Kyouya and I revealed our mutual affliction to each other, and chose to duel as gentlemen for who would be permitted to pursue her." Umehito chuckled. "Though I had called the dark ones' blessings down upon my blade, he outmaneuvered me, and used his own powers to ensure that the shrouded maiden would stumble upon our battle. She rejected me for drawing his blood, so I went to the great healers to have the curse lifted."

Kyouya prepared to translate, but Maeve was already talking. "Well, of course he- er, _she -_ objected. She's practically hero-worshipped him since we were first-years."

"She what?" He and Umehito said in unison.

"What, you didn't notice?" She gave him an appraising, if slightly disappointed, look. "Haruhi-kun always questioned what everyone told her; she never questioned you."

"Haru-chan questions everything I do, every minute of the day. She thinks I have some ulterior motive to pursuing her." He hated how petulant his voice sounded.

"Of course she does," Maeve chided. "I didn't know you were pursuing her until Ume-kun suddenly said we had to help you." He glanced at Umehito, noting the way the other man's cheeks were flushing beneath his cowl and wig at the way she had so breezily called him "plum."

"I mean, _really,_ Kyouya-senpai. You're an Ootori, and that comes with a reputation; doubly-so considering your years of friendship with her. What is she supposed to think, with you sneaking around keeping your affection for her a secret? I'd question everything, too."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?" Kyouya snapped.

"Often." She shrugged. "Well, I've done what I can. You're all damn fools if you ask me."

Kyouya rolled his eyes and headed back for the ballroom, but stopped at the doors and looked back at the two of them. "So I should be more obvious?"

Nekozawa nodded. "You must sacrifice something to the dark gods to receive their blessing, Kyouya-kun. A little bit of the cursed ice around your heart might be a good place to start."

"Hmm. It is something to consider." He looked down at his long fingers on the door handle. "Thank you both." 

"I will light a black candle for your success," Umehito said.

Maeve chuckled. "Good Luck."

* * *

The twins had moved her up and down the dance floor in this strange, three-person waltz for the last ten minutes. It was fun, of course, letting go and letting them lead, and she felt weirdly safe caught between them. But she had caught sight of Kyouya's stricken expression before they folded themselves around her, and it filled her with disquiet. 

She was trying to find a way to ask them to stop without making a scene when Kaoru murmured, "Here he comes."

Hikaru chuckled, and it rumbled through her chest from where he was pressed against her back. "Make him suffer, Haruhi."

Then Kyouya was there, an irritated scowl on his face, standing in the path the twins were leading her along.

"I will thank you both for unhanding Haru-chan at once," he said, his voice lifted just enough for him to be heard over the music without shouting.

"We're dancing, Kyouya-senpai," Hikaru complained. "Why don't you go fondle a calculator?"

"Because I want to dance with Haruhi." His eyes flicked down to her face, and he offered his hand. "If you will have me."

She could hear the shrieks of the girls around the room as she nudged her way out from between the twins and took his hand - shrieks that doubled in pitch and volume as he pulled her close enough that she could smell his rose-scented cologne. "Kyo-chan?" she whispered. "What are you doing?"

His answering smile was wicked. "Whatever I want," he replied, then kissed her in front of everyone, and the music was lost in the excited screams.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, and want to see more, you can follow my twitter: [@amandaterasu](https://www.twitter.com/amandaterasu)!
> 
> If you wanna hang out in a discord with a bunch of other fanfic junkies, you can join my [Discord!](https://discord.gg/Xh3Sfej)


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